


words don't come easily

by xiubeans



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-21
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-02-05 01:20:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 36,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12783834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xiubeans/pseuds/xiubeans
Summary: He's familiar with rich men who treat him like nothing; a dispensable toy for some, a temporary companion for others. A future heir to a makeup company who hesitates to even sleep in the same bed with him flips all that he's known upside down.Modern sex slave au where Changkyun is a slave, Hyunwoo is his rich master and the both of them have to sort out their tangled and over-complex relationship while dodging the fact that they could be very much in love.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical night leads to an atypical meeting.

Changkyun shivers despite the heat in the thunderous, stuffy room. He has never liked showcasing days. There are too many eyes on him, picking him apart piece by piece like vultures would with a piece of meat, comparing him to the others kneeling beside him and wondering what he was like. He feels as though there was something else that he shouldn't like about showcasing days but he couldn't quite tell. It could have been the morals behind it, or it could have been something else altogether. Whatever it was, he was in the business for much too long for anything to matter anymore. He’s tired. He doesn’t want to be here. 

The tinted lights shine down on him and three other boys, casting an impure and red glow on on all four. He feels eyes pierce through his body and pry him apart. But he's used to it; he's spent enough time on the stage to tolerate it long enough without becoming nervous from all the whispering and looking.

He can see the shadow of men in business suits. For some reason, rich businessmen are always regular customers. He doesn't know why but he only understands that because they're rich and have money to blow off they'll throw a wad of cash at anything. Changkyun has only been bought twice but both times the men were rich and only used him; he was a toy, not a companion. Most days he spent his time inside his lavish room but received no love. Strange how somebody who was bought with money made up for lack of affection. Was that how relationships were now? You could buy a partner with money and they would do as you wish? No strings attached, no need to communicate and create a loving and wholesome relationship; just sex without saying anything.

The bidding begins a beat after the ringmaster introduces them. Changkyun’s eyes focus on the silhouettes slinking around the dim room like shadows in the dark. Voices rise from the darkness, spouting numbers that mean nothing to him. Changkyun stares at a particular strobe light that barely shines and loses focus of his surroundings again. The voices drown into one monotonous sound that buzzes in his ears. The light grows dimmer and he lazily scans the crowd. He can only make out a few faces. Suddenly, the tip of the cane points at him and the dreamy voice of the ringmaster calls out, "This one is called Changkyun. He's already experienced so he's ready to submit for you. Quiet, slender and submissive; the perfect slave for you!" All eyes shift to him and he feels each one strip him apart even though he's naked, poke him, touch him, examine him. The bid starts at a meager hundred and climbs up by the thousands until it stops just short of some ridiculous number with a handful of zeros. He turns his eyes to the crowd to find the man who he was sold to but all he's met with are shadows.

The bidding doesn't last no longer than ten minutes at most but when he gets up his legs are asleep and he feels exhausted. The ringmaster herds all four backstage. Changkyun slips a bathrobe over his naked body and begins making his way towards one of his makeshift rooms. Before he can go in, the ringmaster stops him.

"Come meet your new owner," he says and gestures behind him. He steps away to reveal a man.

This man, his new owner, is not particularly interesting. The only thing that piques his interest is the silent yet powerful aura he gives off but his looks and clothing are typical of a rich man who cheated his way to the top. Or, perhaps for him, it was typical nature for a bratty son who inherited his father's wealth. The man only looks to be in his early twenties. He wasn't much older than him, but he's old enough to make Changkyun look upon him like an older brother or an older friend. Not that he would, of course. After all, his purpose is to serve and please the man. He has no place in becoming a companion for his new master.

"He's the heir to a makeup company," the ringmaster says. So he was right; the man is an heir and will inherit both wealth and company once the his father or mother passes away. Just how bratty is he?

"It's a pleasure to meet you," the man speaks up. His voice is deep and smooth, something that Changkyun has associated with wealth. The man takes his hand in a manner as though he might accidentally crush the boy and delicately presses a kiss on the back of his hand. He glances up but doesn't smile. Changkyun is already calculating, wondering whether or not this man is just like every other he's been with and wondering whether or not he would continue to be treated like property or an inanimate object.

"Go get dressed and you can leave with him," the ringmaster says. He turns away and leaves the two standing in the dim hallway. Changkyun's eyes follow the disappearing figure before turning them to the man. In a habitual manner, he looks down to signal his submission.

A warm finger presses underneath his chin and tilts his head up. In a rather dignified, princely air the man says, "Don't do that. I want you to look at me." His hand falls away. Changkyun stares hard at him for two seconds in confusion.

"I'll be waiting outside for you, Changkyun. Take your time."

Changkyun tugs the bathrobe a little closer towards his body and enters his room, slightly unnerved by this strange man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't like writing stories that involve splitting it into chapters (as many people might figure out with my forty-three and counting one-shots/published works) but I figure it's about time I do so. This has been sitting in my drafts for way too long and as a way to help me get back into the swing of things despite my crazy schedule I'll finally be trying my hand at chaptered fics. Let's just hope it doesn't stop on the 8th chapter <:
> 
> In addition I'll be adding more and more tags whenever it's necessary because honestly I have no clue how this is gonna turn out
> 
> Also shout out to my friend Nik for listening to me ramble about the whole story and helping me whenever I asked for advice, you're amazing and ily


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His new home is almost straight out of a fairy tale. A glass castle for a heir—how whimsical!

Pulling his jacket up to his chin, Changkyun fights the urge to shiver. He's not cold. He's hot if anything, but the shiver threatens to shake his body and the last thing he wants is for the other to take notice and ask why he's shivering when the spring air has only been wavering between a warm twenty-four to twenty-six degrees, a considerably warmer temperature compared to what they had a few months prior.

He's nervous. The man that had bought him doesn't say anything and has an intimidating air to him. He doesn't rattle off a long list of rules for Changkyun to follow, and he doesn't say anything to remind him that he's just a toy for his pleasure. The man is silent and concentrates on driving. The atmosphere is awkward and in turn it makes him anxious. When he's anxious he draws even further into himself. Not only that but there is a small feeling of fear creeping up in him. He's not sure why he's scared, but perhaps it's because the man could very easily snap his neck if he wanted to. He doesn't know why he thought of it but the idea came to his mind just a moment ago, when he was looking at the man and noticed the flex of muscles underneath his seemingly too tight clothing. Normally he never feared his masters, but this man in particular struck him as a potentially violent person.

"There's a full moon today." The slow, deep voice rises from the dark to make a simple comment. Changkyun can't see the moon from his position unless he cranes his neck to look out the window but he murmurs an agreement.

"What's your favorite time of day?"

"My...favorite time of day?" He wasn't expecting a question as casual and straightforward as the one the man asks him. It takes him a moment to process the question, as though he is a robot that received an unknown command. "I don't know. I suppose sunset is nice. And nighttime."

"The colors of the sky look nice at sunset," he says. "So do the colors at sunrise. I think that's my favorite time of day."

The car becomes quiet save for the occasional sniff or clearing of the throat that pierces through the thick silence. Changkyun stares out the passenger window for much of the ride home and counts the amount of bus stations they pass by or takes note of the architecture of each house that whizzes past them. Slowly, he can see the moon emerge on his side as the car turns down a well-lit street. The silver disk shines bright in the sky and casts a supernatural glow on the buildings lined up in perfect rows with perfect streetlights fixed in front of them and perfect gates to keep out the imperfect. The car slowly rolls to a stop in front of one of these buildings. This particular building seems whiter than the rest of the houses (if that was physically possible) and points straight towards the sky. Silver balconies are fixed to the front of the tower and crystalline windows offer a view of the mountains jutting up miles away. Changkyun stares at it in awe and watches the tiny figures standing on steel balconies, the sound of their laughter faint like the smell of the last cherry blossoms of spring. The sight of people congregating on the balcony is foreign but welcome. He didn't think he'd see such a familiar sight again after two months of sitting in windowless rooms without the joy of human interaction except in the form of curious men and women.

"My penthouse is at the top floor," the man says and points out the window. Changkyun, without meaning to, leans over to follow the other's finger. The only thing distinguishing the penthouse from the normal apartments are the windows, which are much larger both in width and length. The windows of the apartments below the penthouse are minuscule compared to the large, flat sheets of glass that line the perimeter of the penthouse. While chalk-white walls keep the inhabitants shielded from the outside world and all of the nasty things that lurks in the dense jungles of the streets the penthouse only has its fragile glass walls to protect him from the evils that the rich do not necessarily like to deal with. It's almost like a strange fairy tale that's being spun before his own eyes, Changkyun thinks to himself. The man who had nothing better to do on a Saturday night bought a sex slave to keep him satiated and entertained lives in a literal glass house that could break any time the wind blows too hard. But who is the princess in need of saving, and who is the villain that must be defeated? Is there even a princess and antagonist in this particular fairy tale? Maybe it's just one of those dark stories that ends in death. Light suddenly floods the car as the man opens the door and Changkyun follows after him.

The brightly lit lobby and the equally bright receptionist welcomes the pair with a smile and bow. She raises a questioning eyebrow (just ever so slightly) at Changkyun, but the man quickly explains that the boy is an intern who wants to learn about the fastest-growing makeup company in Korea. She says nothing and nods while her smile grows just a bit wider. He has to wonder how that story might stick, especially when he's going to be living with the man for the next few weeks or months, depending on how long the other can stand him before he gets bored. As far as he knows, interns don't stay cooped up in a rich person's house for days at a time without ever going outside.

"Let's just keep the truth from getting to the public," the man whispers to him as the elevator doors slide shut, as though the receptionist might have hearing as keen as a dog's. "I don't need the media fabricating intricate stories about us."

Intricate stories like what? Silly anecdotes where nearby pedestrians supposedly saw the both of them walking down the street together and assumed that they were dealing drugs? Or some far-fetched accounts where store owners attended to them and reported that they have bought chocolates, so it must have been for each other? He's read enough imprudent articles about celebrities with flashy titles to know that half the things written by media is just lies and speculations meant to reel in readers and make money. 

The elevator dings softly to announce its arrival on the top floor. The mirror-mounted doors slide open to reveal a long hallway. Changkyun allows the man to step out first before following right behind him like a well-trained dog. The walls and floor of the hallway are a soft pearl cream. A soft ruby-red rug made of an expensive material creates a path for both to tread on so as to not scuff up the marble floors. The hallway is sparse save for a few framed paintings, all of which are abstract and have too many splotches to even constitute as an actual art piece. Anybody old enough to attempt to make the abstract into the tangible would have a hard time coming up with ideas as to what the artist wanted it to represent and be that involved the concrete. Changkyun doesn't seem to have much trouble coming up with a few ideas but it's hard when he is no longer an innocent child.

The door to the penthouse is as extravagant and fancy as the interior of the hallway. The carved flowers gives the door more of an elegant air to it than a simple door should be but the metal door knocker placed in the middle of it evokes power and influence. The lion's head haughtily glares down at the two of them as they approach. Changkyun actually becomes a little intimidated by the knocker but once the man pushes the door open he's immediately entranced by the sight in front of him.

It's not the wine bottle light fixtures hanging precariously from the ceiling over a coffee table and several couches in a corner, nor the huge black bookcases nestled into the far right wall, or the interesting trinkets that are peppered about on every shelf and flat surface. It's not the bar or pool table or swimming pool that's outside; it's the view of the city that captivates him and makes him forget who he is and where he is. On light feet he glides towards the glass wall and presses his hands against them, momentarily forgetting about his surroundings and his situation. The glow of the city is warm and offers as much comfort as it can give to the boy who had lost his way. In the center of the city is the heart and he can see some of the lights flicker in a rhythmic pattern akin to a beating heart. For a brief moment Changkyun feels warmth flow through his body that cause his toes to tingle. Then he hears the deep voice pull him away from the glass and remind him of where he is.

"It's a beautiful view," the man says with his hands stuffed deep into his pockets. "It awes me every night." Beautiful is an understatement, Changkyun thinks to himself. Spectacular, gorgeous, alluring, magnificent, dazzling—none of those words can describe the beauty of the twinkling lights. He isn't overreacting; there are no words that he can come up with that can describe the city lights in one clear descriptor. There should be a word for something that's ethereally beautiful, a word that fully expresses the beauty of something. Beautiful doesn't seem to cut it. 

The man steps away from the window and in the same deep, low voice tells him from a few feet away, "Go take a shower. I'll get something ready for you to eat in the meantime."

The command strikes him as odd. No, it's not the command that confuses him. It's the statement that follows after the command, the one where the man says that he'll make something for Changkyun to eat. He's rich, so shouldn't he have maids to do the menial work? But Changkyun doesn't want to make the other angry with trivial questions simply because he lives with a new master who does things differently, so he pries himself away from the window with much reluctance. He finally tears himself away from the view by turning around and starts making his way towards the steel and glass staircase that winds up to the second floor but stops for a moment when he hears the man tell him that the bathroom is right up the stairs and down the hallway. As he climbs up his fingers glide up the white railing and he takes note of how spotless it is. Perhaps he does have maids. They simply left because it's nearly midnight.

The second floor is just as decorated yet scarce as the first floor. There’s another set of couches sitting in the middle of an open space. Book shelves line the wall across the couches and nestled in an open space in the shelves is a TV. On the other side of the room there seems to be a bar. Changkyun wanders down the hallway just left of the couches and checks inside a room where the door is cracked open just a hair. He peers into it and finds him looking inside the bathroom. The bathroom matches the design of both the first and second floor, excluding the glass walls. There’s only one window that’s positioned beside the joint bathtub and shower, which faces towards the back. Silhouettes of the mountains grow tall and proud in the distance. He can't see the mountains very clearly due to the darkness but he figures that when morning comes he'll be able to see it and the smoke rising from little cottages tucked comfortably into the side of the hills.

Beneath the warm spray of water Changkyun's mind eventually wanders back to his reality. He is no longer living in a small apartment with four other boys, boys who shouldn't even be there. He's living with a rich man who will take care of him (or neglect him) and do whatever he wishes to him. So far, the man doesn't seem to be typical to the rich men that Changkyun is used to: ostentatious, brash, and condescending. He's barely speaks, but when he does it's brief and very forward. Changkyun was used to the chatter of his former masters, who cooed over him like a baby and always growled sharp warnings to him whenever he stepped out of place. He wonders what his life will be like for the next few days as he attempts to adjust in an almost foreign setting with a man who already seems very different from his last masters.

Changkyun switches the water off and steps out. Sitting on the sink is a pile of fluffy pink towels and some clothes. They weren't there when he walked in, so perhaps the man had slipped them inside while he was in the shower. Pushing his water-soaked bangs out of his eyes Changkyun lifts the towel up and wraps the soft cloth around him like a blanket. There's a faint smell of rose coming from the towel and it reminds him of intricate parties he was forced to go to where the smell of rose and lavender and sea foam mingled and hung heavily in the air, choking him. He quickly dries himself off and puts the towel down before slipping into a simple black t-shirt and sweats. The clothes fit well despite being a little too big and he's content to wear something comfortable and warm.

As he steps out of the bathroom he sees light from a room opposite of the bathroom spill out from behind the door, which is cracked open just an inch. The need to find out where the source of the light is coming from stems more so from his curiosity than the need to turn it off. He pushes the door to the room open and steps inside what could be the man's bedroom. He shivers as the cool spring wind drifts into the room through the open door to the balcony and caresses his skin. Changkyun made no sound when he stepped inside but the man turns towards him nonetheless and points to a tray of food sitting on a nearby desk. Eggs and toast; nothing complicated like he expected. The man couldn't possibly be able to cook anything more complex than that. It's late and he wants to get to bed soon, anyways.

Changkyun takes a seat in the desk chair and examines his food. He picks it up gingerly, as though he expected the food to fall apart when he held it but finds the toast firm. The man walks back into the room and slides the door shut behind him, blocking out the chilly spring air. "This is your home now I suppose," the man says in a slightly musing manner, as though he hadn't expected to take Changkyun home and live with him. "I don't really have any rules. I've never lived with another person besides my family when I was younger."

"Not even with roommates in university?" Changkyun takes a bite of his toast and is pleasantly surprised by the food. It's edible and tastes good. He thought that the man wouldn't know how to cook—or that if did, it wouldn't be good. But the toast is crunchy and the egg isn’t rubbery.

"I had roommates in university, but I meant that I never lived with somebody else other than for sexual or romantic reasons. You're the first person."

"Are you celibate?"

"No," the man replies. He shakes his head and laughs. "No, I'm not. I just don't have the time to date. My parents are training me to take over their company. I'm putting my responsibilities first."

Responsible is a word he'd never use to describe rich men. They leave their responsibilities in the hands of their most trusted assistants and go on a long vacation if they don't want to deal with their company's failure. Changkyun had expected the man to leave home and go overseas for some fun to avoid his responsibility but it seems like he's fully prepared to take his parents' company into his hands.

Their conversation is sparse. Changkyun doesn't talk with food in his mouth (a common courtesy) and the man is preoccupied with piles of papers that lie in one corner of the room. While Changkyun eats he watches the other sit cross-legged on the floor besides the pile of papers and thumb through it. He'll occasionally pull out a paper, leaf back to a certain part of the pile, and place the paper there before going through it again and repeating the process. He finishes quickly and gets up. As he crosses over to his bed he glances over at Changkyun, who sits stiffly in the desk chair while he eats, and grabs one of the many pillows propped up on the bed.

"You can sleep in my bed tonight," the man explains with the pillow tucked underneath his arm. He says nothing more and leaves the room with his pillow. Changkyun glances over at the bed and feels as though he doesn't belong on such a nice, extravagant piece of furniture. He doesn't mind sleeping on the couch downstairs or upstairs. Both are large and comfortable enough for Changkyun to sleep on, but he doesn't want to be scolded on his first day for causing a fuss. If he told Changkyun to sleep on his bed then he will sleep on his bed no matter what he thinks. Despite that, he doesn't fall asleep on the plush king-sized bed with its soft comforter and cloudy pillows. He stays awake with his thoughts until the moon disappears behind the mountains, until the stairs fade into the morning sky, and finally until the lights are turned off in the city and the roofed buildings can be seen in the dawn's light. He somehow manages to doze off at the desk despite the uncomfortable position his body is bent at and finds himself hours later in bed, the velvety pillows pressed against his cheek.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the next chapter tomorrow/when it's not one in the morning because wow I'm tired
> 
> The next couple chapters will go up pretty soon (like in 12+ hours) since I'm currently on Thanksgiving break and I already have a good chunk of the story written out so just stick around and you'll get more stuff later. Everything seems very descriptive and boring right now but trust me, this is just building up to what I *hope* will be the amazing part


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Changkyun's first day is quiet; a welcome thing considering his last master wasn't familiar with the concept of silence.

Changkyun wakes up in the bed the next morning, unsure of how he got there but not quite questioning it. It feels good to simply lay here, undisturbed by nobody and basking in the warmth of the first rays of sunlight. He stretches his arms over his head and hears his shoulders crack a little at the movement. He sits up after finishing and stares out the glass walls. In the distance he can see puffs of white smoke slowly disappear into the air and the last of the street lights shutting off as daylight approaches. Changkyun watches the clouds lazily pass by in the sky before moving to get up.

The penthouse is unusually quiet for it being seven o’clock. Shouldn’t there be maids? Or butlers? Or somebody that should be housekeeping? Changkyun pauses in the middle of the doorway, confused by the lack of servants, but merely shrugs it off. Perhaps the man had a unique way of doing things. 

He steps into the hallways and shakes his sleep-tousled hair out of his eyes. He’s not completely sure what he’s supposed to do today. The man might want to have his time with him later but as far as Changkyun knows he may not even be home. His prior masters were often away on business trips so he was used to be being left to his own devices in their large mansions. Not that the man being away was a problem; Changkyun would much rather be alone than with him. He doesn’t seem to be a very friendly person.

Nobody is on the second floor, much to his surprise. The couch where the man must have slept last night was neat and tidy, so Changkyun assumed that perhaps a maid had cleaned it up and they were downstairs in the kitchen. But his trip to the first floor only comes up with nothing. There’s nobody else here except him. Confused, he returns to the second floor and wavers beside the staircase. There’s not much for him to do. He’s new and a mere toy for the other’s pleasure. There’s a certain etiquette that he needs to follow. He doesn’t like it but it must be followed lest he wants to be punished for falling out of line. All he can really do is patiently wait for the man’s return. In the meantime, he might as well explore the penthouse and acquaint himself with his surroundings if this is to be his home for the next few months.

Changkyun wanders over to where the set of couches are and notes the large bookshelf pushed up to the wall over on the right side. There’s a TV mounted to the wall inside a large open space in the shelf. The television itself doesn’t interest him but it is the various books littered about in no particular order that catches his attention. His fingers brush against the dusty spines and pauses at a black book. He tilts his head to the side so he can read the spine. _Heart of Darkness_ by Joseph Conrad. Changkyun bites his lip, uncertain if he should pull the book out since he hasn’t even begun to explore the rest of the house. It’s an interesting title and he wants to read it but he decides to save it for later.

There isn’t much for him to explore in the little area besides the large shelf. He quickly becomes disinterested in the trinkets and finds himself wandering back down the hallway. There are three doors; the one furthest down the right side is the bedroom and across from it is the bathroom. A few feet away is another door but it’s shut tight. Changkyun stands before it and finds himself looking up at it in quiet fascination just like a child. The door itself isn’t special. It’s exactly like any other doors in the penthouse but there’s something peculiar about this one. Perhaps it was because this door was hiding something that is yet to be seen by Changkyun. Something private. Something that Changkyun shouldn’t be seeing lest he violated the man’s privacy.

Changkyun makes his way to the first floor after scouring through the second floor and stands in the middle of the room. To the right of the stairs there’s another set of couches. Bored by the simple furniture he turns his attention to the kitchen for a moment. The kitchen is separated from the rest of the open floor by a wall. A large archway spans across the middle, allowing him a glimpse of most of the kitchen without stepping aside. Besides an island counter that sits in the middle of the kitchen there’s nothing enthralling about it so he turns his full attention to the patio outside. He makes his way over to the sliding door and pulls it open with ease. The door opens without so much as a sound and Changkyun slips into the cool morning. The fresh air calms his mind. He passes by wicker couches arranged in a neat manner beside a pool without so much as a glance. His attention has been passed to the view that surrounds him and the glass castle.

Below his perch he can see that the city has grown busier over the last half hour. More smoke has begun to drift out of metal chimney pipes and the streets fill up with cars. One particular highway is already packed with vehicles trying to get to their destination and Changkyun watches them slowly inch along as the sun climbs higher into the sky. He tilts his face up and shuts his eyes. Suddenly, the warmth of the sun seems to amplify. The boy stands like this for a couple minutes, his body swaying with every push from the wind as he takes in his surroundings and allows the silence to consume him.

“Changkyun?”

His meditative trance is broken by a deep voice. He turns around and finds the man watching him from inside the penthouse. In his hands are bags of groceries. Changkyun goes back inside, disappointed that his time alone has been interrupted so early.

“Did you sleep well?” The man asks. Changkyun nods. He watches the other set the plastic bags down on the island counter in the kitchen and Changkyun ambles towards him. He eyes the various vegetables in one of the bags, a little perplexed as to why the man has went out to the store so early in the morning.

“May I ask a question?” Changkyun asks. The man stops pulling out produce from the bags to give Changkyun an inquisitive look. It’s sort of a vague crook of the brow and he isn’t sure if the man is allowing him to speak but he decides to ask anyways. “Do you have any servants? It’s very quiet around here.”

“I don’t. I prefer to live alone and do everything for myself. I feel as though having servants would be strange.” The man opens a cabinet in the island counter and takes out a wooden cutting board. Changkyun suddenly feels out of place and decides to get out of the kitchen. The idea of having a rich man dirtying his hands with menial tasks is a new concept to him. Besides, he doesn’t feel very comfortable being around the other as of now. He’s sure to adjust to his new master and surroundings soon but usually his first day always consist of lying in bed and trying to make sense of everything. Sometimes it feels surreal. The huge rooms, the velvet bed sheets, the wine with names too fancy to pronounce, and even the masters themselves—it always felt like he was in a dream because realistically he would never be in a situation like this. But his reality is real. It’s not a fever dream that he’s stumbling through. He really is living with rich men as their sex slave.

Changkyun finds himself heading back up to the bedroom but stops on his way there. He suddenly remembers the book he had found earlier and backtracks to the bookshelf near the couches. His fingers run across the spines of the books until he finds _Heart of Darkness_ and pulls it out. A perfect indent of where the book was remains. 

Changkyun flips the book over to look at the cover. The picture that covers the entire front looks like it was originally painted. There’s an old steamboat anchored near the bank of a jungle and off to the side men in pristine white suits seem to be herding natives of the land. The illustration sends a shiver down his spine. There seems to be something sinister about it.

Changkyun settles down on the couch and opens the book. The pages are white and show no sign of ever being used. He thumbs the corner of a page, wondering where the man might have gotten the book and if he intended on reading it or was simply using the book as some sort of decoration. Perhaps he had just purchased it last week. Or maybe he bought it months ago and the only thing that ever touched the old-new book was dust. Either way, Changkyun is the first person to be reading it.

 

He’s not sure how long it’s been since he began reading but time passed quickly. From the first sentence he was already absorbed into the story. He could hear the natural rise and fall of the narrator’s voice as he spoke. The pained, ghost-like moans from the Africans haunted him throughout the story. Whispers of the land made his mind swim. It didn’t just beckon to Kurtz; it seemed to call for Changkyun as well. By the end of the book he felt as though there was something deep within him that was dormant. Under the same circumstances that Kurtz was under he too would fall victim to the primitive ways of man. 

It’s twenty minutes past eight o’clock. Changkyun puts the book back where he found it and realizes that amidst all the emotions and thoughts he had while reading the book he had developed an appetite. He internally debates on whether he really wants to bother the man for food until he hears the clack of silverware on china. He looks up from the book and sees the man making his way towards him with a plate. He turns his eyes down so he doesn’t have to make eye contact with the man and accepts the plate with the slightest of nods as it’s being handed to him. Neither of them say anything during the exchange and the man disappears into the bedroom before Changkyun has a chance to utter a word. But he doesn’t mind the lack of communication, to be frank. He’d rather not talk to the other for a day or two until he’s a little bit more comfortable with his new surroundings and the man. Even if he doesn’t like the man he’ll at least adapt to the changes and find a way to deal with him.

He ends up spending the rest of the morning reading another book and eating the omelette that he figures that the man had made for him. The morning passes with a serene quietness that Changkyun forgot about during his earlier days as a slave, when quiet didn’t seem to be part of his last master’s vocabulary. He was loud, almost obnoxious with the way he chattered constantly, and it was difficult to find a moment of peace in his busy day. He finds himself savoring the silence, as though it could be taken away from him at any given moment. 

But come noon the house is still strangely quiet. 

Changkyun briefly puts the new book he’s been reading down beside him and looks around. If the man had decided to go downstairs than he would have noticed him walking past him and go down the stairs on the other side of the room. Changkyun shrugs to himself and returns to his book. 

Sometime around three in the afternoon the man finally emerges from the bedroom. He only gives Changkyun a single, side-long glance before hurrying to the first floor. Changkyun doesn’t put much thought to the other's reaction and returns his attention back to his novel. Somewhere during the tenth chapter of _Frankenstein_ he falls asleep. He wakes up two hours later with the book on his lap. 

He finally grows bored of reading and leaves the book on the coffee table for him to read the next day. He gets up and stretches his arm above his head. Downstairs he can hear pots and pans banging against each other. He must be making dinner. Changkyun suddenly has the overwhelming desire to talk to somebody and the other person that he can to is the man. Although he doesn’t want to have a conversation with him just yet he figures he might as well attempt do make light chit-chat. Small talk wouldn’t hurt, would it?

Changkyun makes his way down the stairs and finds the man with his back turned towards him. He musters up his courage and walks over to the kitchen. With a relaxed demeanor, he enters just as the man glances over his shoulder, aware of Changkyun’s presence.

“Is there something you need?” He asks first, throwing Changkyun off with the abrupt question.

“I was just wondering when dinner would be ready,” Changkyun says, although his voice came out timidly, not nonchalantly like he was trying to go for.

“Soon,” the man answers simply. Changkyun stands there like a fool as he tries to come up with another question but finds that he can’t think of anything else. He slowly backs out of the kitchen, unsure about staying in the room as an awkward atmosphere suddenly curtains them.

“I never told you my name.” The comment came out of the blue and Changkyun stops in his tracks. That’s right, he never told Changkyun his name. He’s been so caught up with adjusting to his new home and inspecting the other from afar that he never once wondered what his name was.

“My name is Hyunwoo,” he says. He glances over his shoulder again and meets Changkyun’s eyes for one moment before he turns away. The conversation ends there and he stands there for another minute in case the other had something else to say. When Hyunwoo makes no move to acknowledge him Changkyun returns upstairs. Their interaction didn’t go as planned but he figures that he should leave Hyunwoo to focus on cooking.

Changkyun makes his way to the bedroom and stands in the middle of the room. Nothing much has changed except for the desk. The stack of papers that was previously in one far corner of the room has been moved to the desk, where it now patiently waits to be organized. Changkyun peeks at the first page. He skims through the paper and finds that it’s mostly filed with lots of jargon that he isn’t familiar with. It’s about legal things from what he can gather.

He makes his way over to the balcony and slips outside. The sun is beginning to set. As the sun dips behind a mountain in the distance the sky turns into an orange hue. A warm, amber glow falls across the white banister. He leans his arms on it and watches the sun set in awe. Though he might tire of the glass penthouse and Hyunwoo soon he will never grow bored with the view. He can see everything in the open sky. It’s so vast, so large compared to the rest of the city, and he feels insignificant whenever he looks up. Suddenly he doesn’t seem to matter in this huge place and it makes him feel lonely.

Changkyun puts the palm of his left hand out and traces the lines with his finger. People get the palms of their hands read all the time. Their fate lies in their hands. If somebody were to read his hand what would they say? Would they say that this line is too short, so he was impatient? Or would they say that because these two lines were not together it meant that he was not prepared for the future? Would a palm reading warn him of the life he’s living right now? Certainly not, he thinks to himself as he closes his hand and tucks it beneath his chest. Despite his skepticism for something that was not rooted in science he can’t help but think that perhaps his current situation could have been prevented with some sort of mystic advice.

Changkyun goes back inside when the air began to grow colder and his body started to shiver. He shuts the sliding door and finds Hyunwoo standing to the entrance of the bedroom, a bowl of something in his hands. How long had he been there?

“Can I ask you something?” Changkyun asks as he accepts the bowl and finds that it’s just some stir-fried chicken with rice. The man nods and he gathers up his courage. “You said that you’re going to take over your parents’ company last night. What kind of company do they have?”

“A makeup company,” Hyunwoo replies. Changkyun thought he would leave it at that but the man goes on. “They create different types of products and sell them. Before I was simply supervising production and the employees but now I’m in charge of essentially the entire company. Well, I’m in charge of at least half of it. But my parents will give up the company to me soon, when I turn twenty-seven.”

“And when do you turn twenty-seven?”

“In about three months.” Hyunwoo scratches his chin. He looks a little sheepish, as though he seems to be embarrassed about his age. “Anyways, I’d better go. I still have a lot of work to do.” He backs out the room and Changkyun watches him retreat down the hallway. 

Changkyun finds it strange that a man like he would willingly take up a makeup company. After all, Hyunwoo has the ability and money to make another company to replace his parents' and profit off the new one. He could very easily not inherit the company either and simply sell if off. There were a multitude of options for him that did not include inheriting the company and placing a huge responsibility on his shoulders. However, like the good son that he seems to make out to be he decided that he would inherit the company and continue to keep it alive. Maybe he sees the inheritance as a good way to earn more money. Maybe he’s greedy, so he’ll do whatever to have his share. Maybe that was what he wanted in the first place. Changkyun was only making assumptions based off his experiences with other rich men. Hyunwoo may be different from the rest.

Changkyun spends the rest of his evening enjoying his dinner (which, to his surprise, is tasty) and watching TV. Hyunwoo is no where in sight even after he goes downstairs to wash his dish and makes his way back to the second floor with a glass of water. He loiters around the open space between the bar and couches, half-hoping the other would come out and ask him if he’s doing well on his first full day in his new home, but Hyunwoo never comes out. Changkyun sticks around for another ten minutes before he grows bored and goes back downstairs. With nothing else to do he decides to go outside for a little bit and get some fresh air.

He slips into the spring night and inhales deeply. Tonight, the sky is completely dark due to the absence of the moon. Still, he’s entranced by the sky. Changkyun takes a seat on a wicker loveseat, crosses his legs, and rests his head on the back on the couch. There’s a few stars peppered across the far expanses of the sky but other than that it remains clear, like a black chalkboard that’s been wiped of math problems and doodles. Light pollution from the city prevents the stars from appearing but he doesn’t feel bothered by it. The city itself is just as beautiful. For him, it’s an earthly and man-made substitute for the stars. Changkyun suddenly cradles his arms to his body as the cool air begins to seep through his t-shirt. He won’t go in just yet. He wants to watch the sky a little longer and figure out where he belongs in this world.

Time is no longer a concept to him as he sits there, his mind in a meditative state and his body as still as a sleeping mountain. He doesn’t realize he’s been sitting outside for a whole hour until Hyunwoo calls for him from the door.

“Come back inside,” Hyunwoo says and beckons to the other. “You’ll catch a cold if you stay outside for too long.” He lingers long enough for Changkyun to see his silhouette retreat back inside. And just like that, he’s gone before Changkyun can say anything. It dawns on him that Hyunwoo is purposefully avoiding him. The man only interacts with him unless it’s absolutely required but otherwise keeps to himself. Changkyun isn’t necessarily bothered by it, he just finds it a little strange that Hyunwoo is avoiding him when he was the one who had purchased him just under twenty-four hours ago. Perhaps he doesn’t know how to act around Changkyun. It’s clear Hyunwoo is awkward around him simply by the way he acts. Changkyun figured that because he was rich and a soon-to-be heir Hyunwoo would exhibit traits that he was most familiar with in men like him: prideful, irresponsible, haughty, greedy, and lazy. So far, he’s shown that he’s willing to take up responsibilities thrust upon him now that he’s an adult. That also means he’s not lazy because he’s ready to take the company into his own hands. As for the other traits time can only tell.

Changkyun returns to the safety of the house and slides the door shut behind him. He figures that there’s nothing else for him to do besides mindlessly watch television or read a book. He’s done plenty of both all day and has already grown bored so it was probably best he went to bed and get some sleep.

He’s nestled in a cocoon of blankets after a shower and a new change of clothes that Hyunwoo had left for him on the bathroom sink, just like he had the night before. The clothes must belong to Hyunwoo judging by the way they hang loosely on him but he doesn’t mind. He had no luggage with him when they left and he didn't want to return to that horrible apartment just to fetch a few articles of clothing. He hopes that the other boys who were left behind put those clothes to good use. Changkyun is content with what the other has provided him thus far and though he's not completely comfortable around the other he's glad that he's at least gotten to sleep in a nice bed and have enough room to pace about in deep thought. He hates being in that tiny, stuffy apartment.

The new shirt he’s donning is white and has a faint pine scent but he didn’t think much about it until he finally settled into bed. _So this is what he smells like,_ Changkyun muses to himself through the darkness and lifts the collar of the shirt to his nose. There’s the distinct scent of pine from cologne that Hyunwoo uses but intermingled with it there’s something else. Something homelier. Feminine, he would say, but not exactly. It smelled like summer mornings in a garden—if it was even possible for there to be a scent that captured that exact scene—but he’s not sure.

He wasn’t awake for very long to continue musing about the scent but the thought of it was gone when he fell asleep and dreamt of nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a lil bit more angsty than I remembered it to be. To be fair, Changkyun is a 19-and-some-months-year-old who should be in college but didn't know what to do with his life so he ended up signing himself into the trade. Perhaps that conflict of his will be sorted out once we reach the more Hyunwoo/Changkyun-centric bit of the story and they begin to establish a more friendly relationship [eye emojis]
> 
> edit: no need to worry, I simply upped Hyunwoo's age from 25 to almost 27. no biggie


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new dawn approached but nothing happened.

On the morning of the second day Changkyun wakes up unusually sleepy despite sleeping well past his usual eight hours. He lounges in bed for a while, body curled up in a warm cocoon of blankets and brain still coming to terms with his wakeful state. The digital clock on the bedside table beside him reads 8:35. He stares at the blinking red lines, watching the five as it turns into a six and seven and eight until the three changes as well. At 8:40 he burrows into his cocoon and emerges at 11:09. The wooden floors are cold against the soles of his feet and he hurries along to the bathroom. The tiles there aren’t any warmer but it gives him a reason to not dawdle.

He emerges five minutes later with a fresh face and somewhat tamed head of hair. Suddenly the thought of how he should spend his day weighs down on his shoulders. What shall he do today? He still doesn’t want to talk to Hyunwoo unless the other needs something from him, and he figures that if Hyunwoo was purposely avoiding him last night he might not want to talk either. Changkyun ponders this strange idea for a moment as he wanders down to the first floor and gets himself a glass of water.

Unless Hyunwoo never was interested in him in the first place or was giving him time to adjust to his new home there really was no need for the man to avoid Changkyun. He had the power, both in the physical and authoritarian sense, to make Changkyun submit to him. He was a toy, something to be used for his pleasure, after all. He doesn’t understand why Hyunwoo hasn’t already tried to take him on top of the nearest surface already. Yet, at the same time he feels relieved; he’s not sure what Hyunwoo’s true nature is exactly but he’s thankful that the man is giving him the space to breathe without being pinned down every few hours. 

Changkyun downs the rest of his water and concludes that so far, Hyunwoo is okay. As long as he doesn’t act snobbish and constantly brag about how many cars he owns or how much money he makes in a year Changkyun is fine with being his slave. There’s so much he can take before it grows repetitive and he intentionally drowns the other out. Besides, it’s not like he could ever be impressed by the massive amount of wealth they held. Money was useless to him. 

Tired of his thoughts he decides to watch some television and finish the last few chapters of Frankenstein before Hyunwoo shows up, wherever he is. There’s a high possibility he’s at work, so if he wanted he could make himself food without having to worry about being scolded for messing up the pristine kitchen. He decides against that idea as he makes himself comfortable on the middle couch. The soft microfiber and plush cushions immediately puts him into a lethargic mood and he finds himself lazing on it like a fat cat in the warm spring sunshine as he pours through different channels. He dozes off during a commercial break at one point and wakes up two hours later, disoriented and hungry. Finally motivated by the rumbling of his stomach he rolls off the couch and pads downstairs. To his surprise, he finds Hyunwoo rummaging through the fridge in his sweats and t-shirt with messy bed hair.

The man barely turns towards him but he acknowledges Changkyun’s with the slightest turn of his head. He must have just woken up. But where was he sleeping?

Hyunwoo straightens up with an apple in one hand and juice box in the other. He brushes past Changkyun to get to the island counter and grab himself a glass for his juice. Changkyun lingers beside the fridge, unsure of whether he should say something or leave without uttering so much as a word to the other. He spots a bowl of fruit on the countertop next to the fridge and has already begun to plan his next moves when a dark figure suddenly looms over him. Changkyun snaps out of his thoughts and jumps back, his left shoulder colliding into the door of the fridge.

“Are you alright? I didn’t mean to startle you.” A hand that could be as large as his face but certainly larger than his own touches Changkyun on the shoulder and soothes the dull pain pulsing through it with a gentle rub. His stoic, almost stone-like face is twisted into a frown of worry.

“Yeah,” he says, and simply because he doesn’t want the other to feel bad he laughs a little. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

Hyunwoo pulls his hand back in a manner similar to a robot that had received a command to stop. Then he raises his hand just slightly, almost as though to return it to Changkyun’s shoulder, before dropping it to his side. The moment passes and as if nothing had happened the usual unemotional expression returns.

“That’s a relief,” he says. He retrieves his juice and apple and starts making his way to the staircase. 

 

Dinnertime and the rest of the evening was spent alone by himself. He went back and forth between the first and second floor as a way to ease a strange anxiety building up inside him. He didn’t know what the cause was but every now and then he would have a sudden thought—one that was extremely vague and wasn’t actually articulated in words but feelings—and it was upsetting enough that it caused him to hurry downstairs and break into the open air lest he suffocated in the glass castle. The crisp spring air certainly calmed him down enough and he returned inside a little calmer but still anxious. He decided that sleep was the best solution and crawled right into bed after getting ready and telling Hyunwoo his decision as the man was returning upstairs with a mug of tea. He simply nodded and bid Changkyun a good night before heading into what Changkyun figured was his private study.

He woke up just a few minutes ago to the sound of the bedroom door cracking open and a large figure slipping into the room. He watched Hyunwoo wander to the other end of the room, grab a blanket off a built-in shelf next to his desk and leave the room as quietly as he had entered. Changkyun wonders exactly how busy the man is to be staying up well past midnight, but leaves the thought be as he drifts back into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since the last chapter and this chapter isn't as fulfilling as I'd like for it to be but I wanted to post something before I leave for my winter vacation. Perhaps if there's (decent) wifi I can post another chapter or two :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just as his tea leaves unfurl as the fragrant leaves steep in hot water, so too does Hyunwoo begin to open up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little longer than the last and *hopefully* has a little bit of more plot-forwarding. Sorry it took so long to update, too! My lovely beta reader and I have both been busy with exams, but hopefully our schedules will begin to clear up soon :') (hint: it won't)
> 
> Thank you for reading and waiting so patiently for the next chapter to update, I PROMISE things will get longer and juicier in the later chapters; apparently I'm not good at writing about stuff from the beginning :u

The afternoon is warm. Changkyun finds himself sinking a little deeper in the wicker seat and readjusts his position slightly to relieve the weight he’s putting on his shoulder.

Hyunwoo is nowhere to be found but judging by the nearly folded pile of clothes sitting on the edge of the bed this morning Changkyun assumes that the other must have gone off to work. He accepts this both happily and dejectedly. After all, it meant that he was given the ability to laze in the warm sunshine and read a book with a cup of tea without Hyunwoo to call him back in or demand anything from him, but it also meant that he had nothing else to do besides sit around and twiddle his thumbs. If being a sex slave has taught him anything it’s that to be unused means that he’s probably not what the master wanted; he had either failed expectations or was simply not what they had hoped for. Like a toy, he would be sent back with the complaint of being broken or not meeting standards. That’s what always happens to him. But that is the price to be paid for being too defiant at times, he thinks to himself as he lays his book face-down on his chest and crosses his legs. If he was just a little more submissive, a little more obedient, then perhaps he wouldn’t have been returned with grievances.

The sun peeks out from behind a cloud and Changkyun wonders how many days he has left before he says or does something regrettable. What if his time wasn’t actually counted in days? What if it was hours? Maybe his time will be up tonight. He feels his heart race a little at the thought and forces his anxiety down. He can prevent this from happening.

But what if he can’t?

Changkyun shuts his book and sits up. The sun is completely gone now, hidden behind a cotton-ball shaped cloud, and along with its great body the warm tendrils become obscured as well. The gust of wind strong enough to topple the wicker chair over with Changkyun still seated in it threatens his safety and he heads back inside. He leaves the book on the coffee table on his way in and slides the door behind himself. The boy wanders to the kitchen to fix himself a cup of tea without realizing his body has began to function by itself. He's too preoccupied to register what his hands are doing.

He can’t help but worry. Even if he was to be returned it wouldn’t be his first time. After all, he had six masters prior to Hyunwoo. His time with them varied in length but it always ended in spectacular fashion, with Changkyun insulting them (more or less). His outbursts weren’t always intentional but he just couldn’t help it. No matter how hard he tried he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Even if he could prevent the same outcome from happening time and time again he knew that it was inevitable. Somebody as willful as he stood no chance as the perfect slave; he could only take so much before he would break down and demand a way out.

Changkyun pushes his thoughts away with a shake of his head. There’s no use in pondering over events that have been laid out by the gods. If he knew how to read tea leaves and tell fortunes it would always tell him the same thing: you’ll defy authority and be handed away. Perhaps that’s what his purpose in life is.

The tea kettle he’s been unconsciously tending to over the last few minutes whistles shrilly to announce that it has finished its task, effectively bringing Changkyun out of the thoughts that plague his mind. For a few seconds he wonders why he was boiling water until the rest of his mind catches up to what the physical part of him wants. He turns the electric stove off and carefully removes the little metal kettle from the stove-top. The whistle is reduced to a whisper and Changkyun pours some hot water into a mug. Several tea pearls float to the top as the force of the water unsettles the bottom of the mug before sinking back down. Changkyun watches the natural flow of physics before returning the tea kettle to the stove top.

The pearls have gradually unraveled into gnarled strips by the time he makes his way to the bedroom. He blows the steam off the top of his tea and once more considers his plans, but the thoughts are simply the same ones he had earlier, recycled and slightly reorganized to still contain the same ideas. In his frustration he burns himself by drinking a little too quickly and decides that if the stars have already determined his fate he should simply accept it.

Then again, it’s part of his nature to defy authority, even that of the higher beings.

*

Hyunwoo sighs and allows the stress that has been building up the last few days to finally catch up to him. He sets his pen down and pinches the bridge of his nose.

He swivels his chair around to glance over at the round clock face hanging behind him. It’s 12:09 and much too early to leave with the complaint of a small headache. Maybe he’ll have a quick lunch break and a painkiller. It wouldn’t hurt to take care of himself a little instead of working himself to death.

Hyunwoo can feel his joints crack in protest as he stands up and stretches. The ache in his back makes him wonder if it’s a sign of his age or the fact that he simply sits with his back bent over a desk for hours on end. He knows it’s the latter but he can’t help but feel like age is also a contributing factor. He leaves his office with another small, tired sigh and begins the long journey to the ground floor to grab something to eat.

Wandering the circular hallway on his way to the elevator and peering out the wide glass windows to look down on the crisscrossing streets below does little to ease his troubled mind. It’s a reminder that he has a large responsibility sitting on his shoulders. Everything within the building will be his in a few months but only if he proves that he is willing and responsible enough to receive the company. His parents has built one of South Korea’s most well-known and famous makeup companies out of nothing but a couple hundred dollars and determination and it was only fair that he proved his ability to care for the company first before inheriting it. He shuts his eyes as he feels a dizzy spell move the ground beneath him simply at the thought of being the next president. He knows he’s ready to take on the role. He’s worked so hard over the last few years, so much so that he had gotten ill several times because he overworked himself so much. His parents have acknowledged his determination with worried discussions about his health and urged him to take breaks. He knows he’s shown his worth but somehow it’s not enough. Nothing is enough to show his readiness. None of his countless sleepless nights could ever be enough.

The glass elevator shoots down the chute. Hyunwoo watches the scenery whizz by and suddenly remembers that he left a nineteen year-old back home by himself. Is Changkyun okay? Did he eat yet? What is he doing now? Maybe he should call just to check in and make sure the other is okay. Now he’s worrying about a boy he barely knows and it’s making his head spin again. He steadies himself and shuts his eyes for a moment, but his headache refuses to go away. The thoughts come and stay, lingering just long enough to make his palms a little more sweaty, until the elevator comes to a stop to allow another person in. As quick as the anxiety came it suddenly leaves the moment he lays eyes on the new passenger and allows himself to relax a little in her presence.

“Oh? It’s a surprise to see you out of your office, Mr. Son.” A woman dressed in a black dress too revealing and tight to be deemed work-appropriate smiles widely at him, a sign that she means no harm with her jab towards Hyunwoo’s strict work ethic.

“And where are you headed, Ms. Kim?” Hyunwoo asks, an eyebrow raised a little. He watches the woman push the button for the fifth floor in response.

“I have a photo shoot to attend to,” she says, her nude lips parting to blow a bubble with the gum she’s chewing. It pops in Hyunwoo’s face but he barely bats an eyelash. “And where, may I ask, are you going, Sir?” The corner of her lip tugs up and suddenly her playful attitude becomes flirtatious and seductive.

“To lunch, my good lady. Should I get you some coffee while I’m out?” The woman’s coquettish smile falls and she breaks character to address Hyunwoo with her true modest nature.

“Oh, that’d be really nice actually. You know what I always get, right?” Hyunwoo wracks his head for an answer but he’s taking far too long to remember what the other normally orders, so she gently reminds him. “A latte with three pumps of organic cardamom-infused vanilla syrup, soy milk that’s been heated up to about a hundred and five degrees—“ Hyunwoo blanks out in the middle of the list and struggles to remember if the coffee shop he frequents even has organic cardamom-infused vanilla syrup, let alone organic vanilla syrup, then suddenly remembers that she doesn’t even like vanilla-flavored things that much.

“You’re joking, right?” Hyunwoo asks when the other finishes listing the extremely specific order to which her coffee was to be made. She instantly bursts out laughing and pats Hyunwoo on the shoulder.

“Of course I am! I’m not that pretentious. Just get me an iced americano and I’m good.” The same alluring look she had earlier returns. She presses close to Hyunwoo traces his jawline with a finger. In a rather suggestive manner she tells him that she can pay back.

“I’d rather you pay me back for that one time you threw up on my lap,” Hyunwoo grumbles. She reels back with a loud protest.

“I already did!”

“Hardly!”

The woman cross her arms and huffs. “I got you a new suit and everything,” she says. The cheery ding of the elevator announces their arrival to the fifth floor. She stands between the doors to prevent them closing as she continues her conversation with Hyunwoo. “I went and got your car washed, I got you a fancy bottle of wine that’s nearly half of my salary, I even did your laundry for a whole week—“

“Go to your damn photo shoot,” Hyunwoo laughs and pushes the woman out of the way. The last thing he hears as the doors shut is something that he dismisses with a brush of his shoulder.

*

Changkyun wakes up with a start on the couch and watches the man enter the penthouse. Hyunwoo shuts the door behind himself and notices Changkyun sitting up on the couch when he turns around.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” Changkyun shakes his head and pushes himself up into a sitting position. When did he doze off? And for how long? It was only two-thirty when he decided to read some more. 

“It’s fine. I sleep too much, anyways.” He rubs his eyes and watches Hyunwoo kick his shoes off and place them in a shoe rack beside the door. Changkyun is considering running upstairs to get away from the still uncomfortable presence of the other when the man asks him a question that throws him off guard.

“I was okay while you were gone,” Changkyun answers, equal parts suspicious and surprised by the man’s interest. Hyunwoo doesn’t seem like he means any harm with the question so he allows himself to relax a little. “It’s just...well, never mind. I won’t complain.”

“What?” Hyunwoo stands in the middle of the room and looms like a large figure that refuses to budge before such a minuscule being. He has a feeling that Hyunwoo won’t leave until he tells the other what’s on his mind, so he takes a small breath and sits up a little straighter.

“It’s kind of been boring the last few days. All I’ve been doing is sleeping, eating, and reading,” Changkyun says and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. He doesn’t mean to sound spoiled; things could’ve been worse and he’d rather have this than anything else. “I just—it’s stupid. I shouldn’t be complaining.”

“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo says, contemplative yet decisive. He gives Changkyun one more look and goes upstairs with an air of finality. Changkyun watches the man retreat upstairs before heading into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

 

Changkyun wakes up the next morning to find a brand new game console sitting at the foot of the bed, the box still taped up and brand new. He spends several hours plugging his new system into the TV and playing one of the games that was also provided with the console. He didn't expect to receive something so new and expensive (for the typical college student of low income family, anyways) simply because he had complained. He's used to being spoiled on the Master's accord, not on his own, and it feels simultaneously unusual and satisfying to have his own request be granted for once, even if the request was as trivial as the desire to receive something that would alleviate his boredom. He's thankful for the gift, and makes it a point to thank Hyunwoo when he finally returns home.

"Of course," the man says, and looks a little flustered by the way he ducks his head to avoid direct eye contact with Changkyun. "If the games I got you aren't enough or you just don't like them I can always get you something else. Just tell me."

"If that won't be too much trouble," Changkyun tentatively replies, just to push his luck because he's feeling a little greedy about his new toy, but still doesn't want to make it look like he's expected to be treated like a spoiled slave.

"Not at all." Hyunwoo's already making his way to the bedroom to get changed and avoid the obviously awkward atmosphere that still lingers between them, but the faintest of smiles betrays the man as he disappears down the hallway.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A noticeable change that is marked by the passing days.

“May I ask you something?”

Changkyun turns around and finds the other standing at the door. It’s hard to see his face in the dark but Changkyun manages to make out the outline of his face. Curious; the master shouldn’t be the one to request permission to ask a question. Besides, they rarely interact. What could be on his mind right now? The thoughts come and go, but he can't figure out what the other would ask.

“Just ask,” Changkyun replies. Hyunwoo’s silhouette fiddles with a ring on his hand as he leans against the door frame. Changkyun watches, waits with his breath unknowingly held, and hopes it doesn’t have to anything about being sent back.

“How do you...feel? About your current situation?” The wind blows, tousling Changkyun’s hair. He flicks his long bangs out of his eyes and thinks. How _does_ he feel? He’s been here for nearly a month without anything significant happening. Bored? He feels bored. No, not bored. It’s something else. He wants more, but he’s not unhappy with what he has. Unsatisfied? His feelings are too complex. One word won’t suffice.

“Maybe I should be more specific,” the man muses when the appropriate time to answer dwindles and the seconds begin to draw into uncomfortable silence. “I just meant...how do you feel about living here?” That narrows it down. Changkyun wracks his brain for the most accurate word.

“It’s comfortable,” Changkyun finally says. “It’s a lot smaller than the mansions I’ve been in but I do like your penthouse. It feels more homely. And with the lack of servants around it kind of feels more domestic. Less like the home of a zillionaire and more like an apartment in the middle of the city.” Changkyun would have certainly lived in an apartment a block away from the university of his choice if he ever went with that route. One that was small but had all the necessary provisions, and a good view of the city. And one that was close to a convenience store.

“Are you happy here?” Changkyun’s mood dips and his worries flood back. Is he happy here? Truth be told, he’s not exactly sure. It’s definitely a lot more liberating to live with a man like Hyunwoo, where he doesn’t care about what the boy is doing and never has a strict schedule for him to follow. He likes the other’s quiet personality, the well-bred yet responsible air that he exhibits, and his decent cooking. But those good traits are canceled out by the bad ones like Hyunwo’s apparent tendency to avoid him, his intimidating aura, and, most importantly, his lack of giving attention. Perhaps this is what conflicts him the most; Changkyun is cynical about the rich man, but at the time he’s become so dependent and attention-fed over the last year or so that it feels like his usual life has been disrupted by Hyunwoo’s atypical lifestyle.

“I suppose,” Changkyun murmurs, and isn’t even sure if his answer is accurate to how he feels.

Hyunwoo shifts his weight from one foot to the other, silently considering the other’s answer, like it wasn’t something he wanted to hear but it would suffice nonetheless. Or he was simply wondering what made Changkyun answer that way.

“Then, how do you feel about me?”

Changkyun chews on the inside of his mouth. What can he say without offending the other? Without saying something that Hyunwoo could interpret as an insult, something that would help him avoid a berating? He goes over all the adjectives in his head, selects the right words and phrases, corrects himself, and gives up with a shrug. But it’s dark, and he’s not sure if the other can see him. “I’m not sure,” he answers honestly. “You’re intimidating and still a stranger to me.”

“You’re uncomfortable around me,” Hyunwoo adds like he already knows, and the boy is just glad he doesn’t have to say that aloud. Hyunwoo chuckles under his breath. “I should have figured. We barely talk.”

The crisp night air fills Changkyun’s lungs as he tries to calm the pounding of his heart. He rests his chin on the back of the wicker seat and watches the other’s silhouette push off from the doorway and straighten himself. That seems like the end of their short yet strangely interesting conversation. Changkyun’s not one to overshare with people he’s not completely comfortable around yet, and he’s not used to the fact that he’s able to voice his opinions. It’s not like opinions mattered in his line of work, anyways; slaves don’t have opinions. They submit and listen but never speak, so to finally be allowed a voice in something as small as how he feels about the other it’s new and strange but not unwelcome.

“I need to get back to work,” The man announces after a brief pause. “You’d better come back inside.” He doesn’t wait for a response and retreats into the house. Changkyun watches his broad figure melt into the shadows of the dark room and sits there for a moment, briefly going over their exchange in his mind. It’s the first time they’ve had a conversation that long.

Changkyun curls up in bed half an hour later and dreams of a sapphire ocean lapping at the white shores of the beach, his toes digging into the warm sand as he dozes off against a sturdy tree.

*

2:07 in the morning.

Changkyun tosses and turns, unable to sleep because he keeps thinking. The last couple days have been keeping his mind busy. Hyunwoo keeps lingering around him but won’t make the effort to talk like he did a few nights ago and it’s driving Changkyun insane. He doesn’t know if he wants the man to go away and leave him alone or just talk and get out whatever he has on his mind, but he can never gather up the courage to do the latter. His mind is restless and his body even more so. Counting sheep doesn’t lure him into sleepy bliss and pretending that he just ran a marathon has next to no effect. The boy climbs out of bed and decides that he might as well go get a book to read. Maybe a nonfiction about economic development in developed countries will bore him into sleepiness.

He creeps into the hallway and finds no light underneath the door to Hyunwoo’s office. Changkyun peers own the hallway and only finds a dark room staring back. Silently, he makes his way towards the room. A shadowy, bulky figure lying on the couch startles Changkyun when he finally notices it as he reaches the bookshelves. The room is silent. There’s no sound coming from the man that would indicate if he is asleep or not, but Changkyun is cautious regardless. He manages to pull a a particularly uninteresting book from the shelf and is starting to make his way back to the bedroom when a husky, sleep-ragged voice breaks the silence. Changkyun stops in his tracks, heart racing.

“What are you up at this time?” Hyunwoo asks, propping himself up on one elbow to examine the other with squinted eyes through the darkness. His hair is a shelved mess that sticks every which way.

“I couldn’t sleep,” the boy squeaks, like he’s just been caught in the middle of a crime. A small sigh escapes Hyunwoo’s lips as he flops back down on the couch. Before Changkyun can scamper off to the bedroom, Hyunwoo holds a hand out.

“Come here,” he says softly, as though he’s coaxing a shy animal into his hands. Changkyun hesitates and glances down at his book. He looks up and sees the other gesturing for him. The thoughts and questions swirl around his mind but one definitive idea is prominent amongst the others. He leaves the book on the coffee table and promptly goes to Hyunwoo’s side, where the man takes him by the wrist. He tosses the blanket off of him and tugs gently, signaling for the boy to lay down beside him. There’s not much room on the couch, so half of Changkyun ends up on top of the other as he attempts to fit himself on the couch alongside Hyunwoo. He tries his best to avoid putting his leg near the other’s crotch, but the position is rather intimate. The man doesn’t seem to mind, but he's still technically half-asleep. Hyunwoo mutters something incoherent into his hair, but the boy manages to catch “try” and assumes that he’s being told to try and go to sleep. It’s cramped with both him and Hyunwoo sharing the couch, but the man has a strong arm around his shoulders to prevent him from falling off. Changkyun shuts his eyes and hopes the other can’t feel how quick his heart is beating. He’s not sure if he can fall asleep like this, with his body pressed against an unfamiliar man like they’ve been together for months. It’s too intimate, too close, too...

Romantic, almost. Almost domestic. Something that couples do on a lazy Sunday afternoon after hours of cleaning the house together.

The uncomfortable feeling he has melts away as soon as Hyunwoo begins stroking his head. Gentle little strokes that start from his hairline, slow and soothing, and ends just above his ear. Light, circular motions that massage into his scalp. Tender brushes of his fingers that linger every now and then as he starts to doze off. Changkyun’s body goes slack from the calming sensation. With each touch he feels sleepier. All the thoughts he had earlier are suddenly gone and all he can think of is how pleasant this feels.

Moments later, Changkyun falls asleep to the faint smell of sandalwood.

 

Changkyun wakes up and finds himself in the middle of bed, arms sprawled out and a small, sticky trail of saliva in the corner of his mouth. He wipes it away with a small grimace before sitting up. He must’ve slept like a baby if he was drooling in his sleep. Then, like a train has hit him, he suddenly remembers what had happened last night and wonders how he even got into bed if he fell asleep on Hyunwoo. Did the other carry him here?

“Good morning,” Hyunwoo grunts from the other side of the room from his computer desk. He’s in the middle of typing up a long report but stops for a moment to lean back in his chair and stretch. He looks at the other before directing his attention back to the computer screen.

“Good morning,” Changkyun echoes back. He’s absolutely positive they were on the couch last night. “Um, can I ask you something?”

“Just ask,” the man replies, copying the exact same reply Changkyun had made during their talk at the rooftop a couple nights ago. The boy frowns, a little annoyed at the copycat, but eventually shrugs it off.

“Last night, when I went outside because I couldn’t sleep, you made me sleep on the couch with you . Did you carry me back to bed?” A blank expression falls across Hyunwoo’s features and he stares at the other in confusion.

“What are you talking about? You’ve been in bed this entire time.”

Changkyun stares, starts and falters, makes his mouth flap like a goldfish’s in disbelief, and shakes his head. “But I couldn’t be, I clearly remember last—“

“I think you’re confusing your dreams with real life,” Hyunwoo says with a laugh and turns back towards his computer. “Anyways, I left breakfast for you on the counter. Just reheat it.” He goes back to his work and Changkyun sits in bed like a fool. He swears that everything happened in real life. He remembers it so vividly, every single thought he had and all the emotions he felt during that time. He remembers the other stroking his head, which was the reason why he fell asleep so quickly in the first place. He even remembers—strangely enough—the smell of Hyunwoo. It keeps coming back to him like a persistent memory.

Changkyun climbs out of bed to get ready but for the rest of the day he keeps attempting to rationalize the event. He absolutely swears that their moment on the couch was real.

*

Changkyun doesn’t see the man standing behind him but he can feel his presence, looming and large. The sensation unnerves him just enough for him to loose focus and die to a monster.

“What are you playing?” Hyunwoo asks with an almost distasteful tone, as though he’s judging the other for letting his mind go to waste by staring at the TV all day, despite the fact that he was the one who got Changkyun the game console in the first place.

“Just a game,” Changkyun mumbles and watches his character respawn at a safe house. “Don’t you have work?”

“It’s Sunday,” the man reminds him. Changkyun murmurs a soft “oh” and hopes the other will go away so he can beat the next boss he’s been having difficulty with. He can’t focus when somebody with a stare as intense as Hyunwoo’s unnerves him.

To his dismay, Hyunwoo ends up taking a seat next to him to spectate the game. Part of Changkyun wonders why the hell a man like Hyunwoo would even take interest in video games, let alone a survival horror game. The other part wants to know why Hyunwoo’s wasting his time watching Changkyun play when he could be relaxing or taking a nap. All of Changkyun can’t help but be extremely aware that it’s awkward with just the two of them sitting on the couch on a Sunday morning, both still in their pajamas and neither saying anything. But he tunes the other out as best as he can and kills the same monsters blocking his path on his way to beat the boss of the area. He keeps distracting himself by losing focus whenever he reminds himself Hyunwoo is watching and potentially judging him, which messes him up whenever he attempts to beat the boss. It takes three runs before Changkyun sighs to himself in frustration. He’s about to get up and take a break from the game when Hyunwoo stops him.

“Can I try?” Hyunwoo asks. The boy gives him the remote, astonished by the other’s request. He watches the man fumble with the controls for a moment before he restores his composure and points out which buttons are to shoot, crouch, run, switch weapons, and other functions that don’t involve the joysticks or the up and down pad for moving around. He’s surprised the other is quick to learn the buttons, and equally surprised when he has a decent aim.

“You’re good,” Changkyun comments when the other manages to snipe a lumbering undead humanoid figure somewhere in the distance. Hyunwoo seems proud of the compliment judging by the way the corner of his lip briefly twitches upwards in a near-smile. And just like that, it disappears and Hyunwoo is plunged into deep concentration as he glances down at his hand to find the appropriate button to shoot. It reminds Changkyun of a father attempting to try their hand at video games. It’s almost endearing.

Hyunwoo picks up on the function of each gun quickly and how to lob grenades at hordes of monsters and somehow, in less time than Changkyun has managed to, gets to the boss. The boy watches the screen with bated breath as his character weaves in and out of lava pillars to reach the monster, chucks an explosive into the gaping mouth, and shoots at the disgusting, undulating red ball exposed beneath the monster’s neck. Changkyun glances over at the other once or twice to gauge his expressions and finds a small frown of concentration pushing his brows together. Hyunwoo doesn’t seem to notice the staring, but even if he did it wouldn’t have distracted him like it would with Changkyun. A deep wail promptly emanates from the speakers and Changkyun looks over at the TV to find a cutscene play out as the dastardly monster finally falls to the floor and lands right at the feet of the protagonist. They brush dust off their shoulders before stepping over the monster and begins monologuing. The boss that Changkyun has spent hours attempting to beat was taken down by an inexperienced player in one try. Hyunwoo returns the controller to Changkyun, who looks up at the man with his mouth hanging open.

“What?”

Changkyun snaps out of his shock and shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. “I’m just surprised that you’re so good. Have you ever played video games?”

Hyunwoo touches his chin for a moment as he attempts to recall. “A few times,” he finally says. “My friend plays them a lot and makes me play with him so he can brag about beating me.” He laughs before getting up and disappearing downstairs.

Changkyun turns off the console after saving the game so that he can give himself time to rest his eyes and to reflect on how Hyunwoo is so good and why he bothered with talking to him today.

*

Days pass slowly like a lazy, drawled-out yawn. Spring is in full swing and the penthouse seems a little livelier with the addition of several vases of flowers decorating both floors. Unspoken yet acknowledged between the two of them is the fact that Changkyun cares for them; that’s simply how it goes.

There’s a lot of unspoken agreements between them. For example, Changkyun has taken up laundry work, dusting, sweeping, and other menial chores that involves keeping the penthouse clean and tidy. Hyunwoo deals with everything in the kitchen and occasionally does some of Changkyun’s chores if he feels so inclined, but the boy typically does most of the housework. He doesn’t mind; there’s really nothing else to do around the place besides read, nap, and play videos games, all of which he’s done plenty of. Occupying himself with productive tasks is good for his mind and body and certainly takes off another load of stress off him. The last month has been nothing but uninteresting to say the least, and even then the chores become another part of his routine. Life is monotonous. Clockwork. Predictable. Part of Changkyun yearns for something else to do that doesn’t involve staying cooped up in the penthouse all day but that’s the same feeling he’s always had with all his masters, regardless of who it was. Hyunwoo simply has a smaller home compared to the others which just makes Changkyun wish a little harder for something interesting to happen the next day.

In a way, he sort of got his wish. Hyunwoo has warmed up considerably to him over the days despite his initial hesitation to interact and tendency to avoid the boy. They can hold long conversations about trivial things like the production of pencils. Changkyun occasionally shares a factoid, which often launches them into conversation. Hyunwoo has created a habit of spectating Changkyun while he’s playing video games and even plays a round or two himself. They have extremely analytical discussions on the novels the both of them have read. Recently, they’ve even grown comfortable enough to debate—debates where the topic of interest was something extremely silly—and take a few jabs at each other. Changkyun wouldn’t consider them close. Not yet of course, but they’ve certainly grown past that stage of awkwardness towards one another. He’s still not sure why the other avoided him earlier before and the question still gnaws at his mind every now and then. He still has questions about the other, like why they haven’t fornicated yet, or if he does indeed like Changkyun. And why did Hyunwoo buy him if Changkyun’s one sole purpose hasn’t been fulfilled? Hyunwoo is a complex man and Changkyun is still searching for his answers. He did, however, get at least one question answered.

“How come you don’t sleep with me?” Changkyun asks the other one quiet evening as they’re watching a late night news program. The news anchor drones about the economy and some kind of policy attempting to be passed that would put taxes on a particular product. Changkyun blocks out the monotonous voice and doesn’t hear the rest of the report, instead directing his attention on the other.

Hyunwoo seems to snap to attention at the question and casts the other a shocked look. “Not sexually,” Changkyun clarifies. “I mean physically. In the same bed. You’ve just been sleeping on the couch this whole time.” The look softens, though Hyunwoo looks a little uncomfortable. He scratches his chin for a moment, clearly thinking about how he should phrase it.

“It’s just weird,” he states—too frankly, to be honest—and just stares at Changkyun, as though he was suddenly imaging sleeping in the same bed as the other. “You’re young. I’m old. That’s all.”

“So?” Changkyun huffs. “I mean, age is just a number, right? Besides, I’m legal. I’m not a minor anymore.”

“Still.”

“That’s not a very convincing argument.” Changkyun crosses his arms and slouches into the couch cushions. “Are you that concerned about sleeping with another guy?”

“Of course not,” Hyunwoo mutters. “My last relationship happened to be with another man. Why are you so caught up with whether or not I sleep with you?”

“You’ve been sleeping on the couch this entire time. Besides, that’s my sole purpose.” The discussion on the TV turns into a distant buzz. Hyunwoo shifts his attention from the TV to Changkyun. He stares, but his eyes are noticeably moving as he examines the boy.

“You think your sole purpose in life is to be used?” Hyunwoo finally asks. He sounds—disappointed, like he expected the other to have said something else besides something that insinuated that he was inferior.

Frustration flares up inside him and Changkyun sits straight up. “Of course,” he snaps, angry that the man can’t seem to understand that, even though by some unspoken rule of rich society all rich people knew that a slave’s purpose was only to be used for their own entertainment, and embarrassed that he has to admit this in front of the other he holds a defensive stance.

Hyunwoo stares again, unfazed by the other’s anger. “You think you’re still some kind of toy, don’t you?” He asks, his voice low and calm. He props his chin on his hand. “I should’ve made it clear from the start that I never wanted for it to be that way. I never meant to purchase you that night. It was an impulsive choice.” Changkyun’s irritation subsides and a vague feeling sets in. It’s a combination of surprise, confusion, and...sadness, perhaps. Everything that he has know has simply crumbled around him with that confession.

“Then what am I to you?”

“A person.” Hyunwoo uncrosses his legs, turns the TV off, and stands up. “You’re not a slave. You’re not inferior. You’re just a boy.” He leaves before Changkyun can get another word in. Shocked by what has been revealed to him, he sits there and shuts his eyes.

Part of him is relieved that he no longer has to be chained to the title of slave. He’s free of the role, of the quiet, submissive nature he has to be forced into lest it displeases his master. He doesn’t abide by informal rules anymore, of certain manners he must uphold to please the rich, of silly protocols. In some way, Hyunwoo has freed him of his slavery. He’s simply a boy now. A boy who isn’t sure where his place is in the world and what he can do to reintegrate into normal society, but a boy nonetheless. Yet it’s undeniable that he feels upset. His life consisted of this title as slave. It revolves around this role. Now that he’s merely a boy living with a rich stranger with nothing to do but rot on the couch and sleep his youth away, what’s the point? He’s stuck here regardless of whether he’s a boy or slave, but the role he had gave him peace. It was comforting to know that despite his inherent uselessness in normal society he at least had a place in higher society and was treated like a prized pet. He fulfilled a purpose with his role, but as a boy...what is there to do? What is there to fulfill?

Nothing, he bitterly concludes, and heads off to bed. He’s useless no matter what.

 

Changkyun awakens approximately an hour later to find the man getting into bed with him. Through his sleepy haze he reaches out and mutters something unintelligible. In his current state of mind, he can vaguely remember the conversation they had earlier and how he felt about it. Still upset by the confession and wishing to avoid the other, he moodily retreats and curls up in a tight ball with his back to Hyunwoo. A hand touches his ankle through the sheets.

“You’re mad at me, aren’t you?” Hyunwoo whispers. Changkyun feels the bed dip beside him as the man lays down. A curious sensation, but he ignores the interest.

“No,” Changkyun mumbles into his blanket.

“You’re acting like a pissy teenager right now.” A strong presence envelopes him like the blanket that surrounds him but he refuses to let the man offer him any comfort.

“I think I have the right to be pissy right now.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t be pissy.” Hyunwoo pauses for a moment to scoot a little closer. He’s close enough for them to practically be in the spooning position right now. “Why are you mad?” He asks, pressing a little more directly for an answer.

“Nothing,” Changkyun answers. He hears the other sigh and knows he’s being a brat, but he could give less of a damn about the consequences. Besides, what consequences is there to give? Take his video games away?

“I know it was something I said that’s gotten you angry. What was it?”

“I don’t want to talk to about it.” Changkyun tugs the sheets closer to his body and curls up into a tighter ball. That seems to have stopped the prodding, since Hyunwoo mumbles a defeated “fine” before settling into bed.

“But at least let me sleep with you tonight.” Hyunwoo makes no other mention of their prior argument and Changkyun makes no effort to point out the contradiction between what the man had said earlier versus what he’s doing now. He’s tired and just wants to sleep and forget.

After sleeping by himself for so long and having been withheld any physical touch it almost feels pleasant to have Hyunwoo’s broad chest press against the small of his back. It’s comforting. His presence is protective, perhaps overbearing, but it’s been so long since Changkyun last laid like this. There’s no intention to push him onto his stomach and fondle him, the usual sign that the other party was horny, and Changkyun feels thankful.

So even though he’s still angry at the other for stripping him away of his role and leaving him as a vulnerable boy, he accepts the other’s touch and falls asleep in Hyunwoo’s arms. Grudgingly, from the exterior, but from the interior he feels at peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this chapter seems rushed in terms of plot. As much as I would have liked for torturous, dry interactions that yield a stagnant relationship yet fits in with the slow-burning concept I wanted I basically hit a wall and didn't know how to write more. Plus, I was excited to finally get to the part where they finally start interacting and their relationship zooms past the awkward stage. I hope this chapter has enough fluffy moments to satisfy everybody! (´･ω･`)
> 
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> > tbh I'm not sure why I put the rating as explicit when there hasn't been anything explicit yet but I PROMISE the smut is gonna come in later chapters


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After all these nights staying right by his side, how could he move so far?

Just like the morning, Changkyun wakes up with his mind hazy. He remembers the—it was hardly an argument—disagreement they had the night before but can’t recall what exactly had gotten him so angry. Hyunwoo presses closer to him in his sleep, and that’s when Changkyun snaps out of his daze and remembers the exact details the night before. Although his emotions are muted, he still feels the complexities of his feelings that caught hold of him just hours ago. The boy slips out of the other’s embrace and slides out of bed in an attempt to put space between him and the other. He doesn’t want to see Hyunwoo right now. He needs to get away from the other and be by himself.

Changkyun climbs down the stairs to the first floor and finds himself in the kitchen, naturally gravitating towards the cabinets where Hyunwoo keeps a small variety of teas. The boy selects one and begins the process of making tea. As he waits for the water to boil on the stove, he can’t help but ruminate on everything that happened last night. Even when his mind trails off, it always comes back to what Hyunwoo said. It obsesses over each detail, each thought and emotion he had at the time, every possible meaning Hyunwoo could have meant when he said it. The man, of course, meant no harm when he said what he had said; part of Changkyun is even thankful that somebody finally sees him as an individual, because now it means he’s freed of his formerly low status. No more parties to parade around, no more empty mansions to wander in, no more broken relationships to deal with. He should be happy that he’s finally free, but for some reason he isn’t. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t be happy about this outcome. Something must be wrong with him to want to keep his slave status.

It wasn’t that being a slave in of itself was a good thing. Changkyun vehemently hated everything about a slave. Who wouldn’t? He had limited freedom to do as he pleased, he had to obey every command given to him, and he was essentially used as some sort of show dog. No, it wasn’t the role he liked; it was the _idea_ that he had a role in the first place that enticed him and kept him complacent throughout every change of hands. He liked having a role because it meant he was worth something, and being a slave for the rich meant something even greater. If he continued with school and lived normally then surely he would have pursued an empty career pushed upon him by family and friends. In several years he would fail to become a scientist, or he would succeed. If he succeeded, then that would mean he would live a miserable life because being a scientist wasn’t what he wanted. It was what his parents wanted. It was what society wanted. He didn’t want to follow the desires of family and society, so he ran away and sold himself to the Ringmaster, a man who promised him that he would find himself in the work that he, the Ringmaster, put him to. He was tricked into being a slave, but he’s grown use to these little lies and his work.

Changkyun takes his finished drink and paces around the living room for a while, eyes falling on the white world outside. If he had some sense of where he wanted to stand in the world then perhaps the life he currently lives wouldn’t be real. Maybe if he already had his entire life planned out since elementary school he would be happy and successful. But he didn’t, and he continued to struggle until it was time to leave the child’s world and enter the adult world. He was and still is afraid of what lies before him in the future, but as a slave there was nothing to look forward to. And he was okay with that. As long as he had a purpose he was okay with being a lowly servant. He sighs, and gingerly sips on his tea. The fog slowly begins to lift, and he takes a seat on the couch to nurse his tea for the time being. He’s only half way finished when Hyunwoo noisily stomps down the stairs and yawns just as loudly, apparently unaware of the consequences of his confession.

“You’re up early,” Hyunwoo says through another yawn. “Normally you’re still asleep by the time I get up.” Changkyun stares and stares at Hyunwoo but never responds. Something like resentment wells up in him, so fast and so suddenly that is startles him because he hadn’t actually thought he would dislike Hyunwoo after all he’s done. But he realizes that perhaps Hyunwoo is just like the others; it’s only a matter of time before he shows his true colors. Almost in a decisive manner he gets up and leaves the room without a reply, causing the man to start after him in confusion before stopping in his tracks. “Changkyun?” Hyunwoo calls after him as he watches the boy’s figure retreat up the stairs. “Changkyun, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he coolly replies from the top of the stairs. It’s a lie, but Hyunwoo doesn’t need to know the truth.

There’s a lot of things that are wrong, like the fact that Changkyun doesn’t know who he is anymore and what his purpose for being alive even is. The future is unclear, and it frightens him to think about it. All he is now is a boy living with a grown man in a glass tower.

But he makes no mention of it and decides that it’s ultimately better if he keeps quiet about the topic. The last thing he needs is a rich man telling him that it’s not a big deal.

*

Changkyun ends up giving the man the cold shoulder, for what he believes is a good reason. He refuses to speak a word and just as equally refuses to tell the man his problems. Hyunwoo wouldn’t understand. He already has his life planned out and is already living successfully. A man as privileged and rich as him wouldn’t understand anything a poor, lost boy such as Changkyun is going through. That’s not how the world works. 

He’s deliberately distancing himself from the man. He knows what the outcome is if he says anything. Part of him considers telling Hyunwoo his problems, but it’s the part that still wants to be trustful and dependent on others, especially towards people older than him. He’s learned to quiet that part of him, though. He’s much more better off without it. He's better being independent.

It takes a while for Hyunwoo to figure out what he’s doing and to finally ask what’s wrong, but by then it was too late; the boy had made up his mind on exposing his thoughts. Never would he mention any of it to the other.

“You’re giving me the cold shoulder,” Hyunwoo points out one night at the table, the first of many attempts to try and pry into the boy’s private life. The statement in of itself sounds like a casual observation. Changkyun pokes at a tomato until it deflates from the hole he made in it. “Could you tell me what I’ve done to warrant your anger?” The boy eats his deflated tomato and moves on to another one. “Changkyun.” He grows bored of the tomatoes and moves on to his piece of chicken. “Changkyun. Seriously, tell me.” No response comes, and Hyunwoo gives up with an exasperated sigh. That’s how most of their one-sided conversations end, with Hyunwoo giving up because he’s figured out that Changkyun doesn’t crack easily and it’s just a waste of time and energy to ask. Yet he still tries, again and again and again until Changkyun does end up cracking just out of sheer annoyance from the other’s tenacity.

“I’m fine,” he lies to the man on another day, when Hyunwoo is being a persistent nuisance to him. “Just tired. That’s all.” Hyunwoo’s brows furrow together and it almost looks like he has a hairy caterpillar on his forehead.

“If you’re going to lie to me then at least make it sound more believable.”

“Really, I’m fine.” He forces a smile and Hyunwoo finally leaves him alone, although skeptical. Hyunwoo isn’t stupid, nor is he oblivious to the boy’s unusual behavior. He’s slow to catch on, true, but once he’s figured out that something is wrong he watches from afar to observe and see what he can do. He knows that something is off with Changkyun but doesn’t know what exactly, and the only way for him to know is by asking. Changkyun has mastered keeping secrets, though. With every attempt to crack him open for answers Changkyun merely steels himself for another try. He’s won the fight, he believes; there’s no way Hyunwoo can get the answers he’s looking for. Strangely, the boy feels proud for resisting all of Hyunwoo’s efforts just for one explanation. The man is tenacious, but Changkyun is stubborn. He won’t give in easily.

All this effort to prevent Hyunwoo from learning the truth, he thinks to himself and bitterly smiles at his reflection in the mirror. Of course. He must protect himself—that’s why he’s doing what he’s doing. Even if he can tell the other everything and anything it doesn’t necessarily mean that Hyunwoo will understand his problems. Hyunwoo could be sympathetic, yes; but that’s not what Changkyun wants. He wants somebody to _understand_ how he feels, not pretend to know. There’s only so much sympathy Hyunwoo can give before he might start faking it. Changkyun doesn’t want faked emotions. 

Then there’s the (high) possibility that he won’t understand at all. There’s a chance that Hyunwoo will minimize the true importance of his problems and offer little to no help. He doesn’t even have to ask—he knows it will happen. It’s happened many, many times before. Shame on the first man to tell him that as a slave there’s nothing for him to worry about; shame on him for believing that he can continue to ask for advice from rich people. Certainly, he’s learned from his mistakes, but he always ends up saying something anyways when the burden of keeping all his pains and anxieties to himself crushes him. If he mentioned anything to Hyunwoo there’s no mistake that he will react similarly to the others, even if he’s kind. So far, anyways. The second month typically revealed the hidden characteristics of his masters. 

A knock on the bathroom door shakes Changkyun from his deep thoughts. “Are you okay?” Hyunwoo’s gruff voice calls. “You’ve been in there for a while.” He sounds tired, but more importantly frustrated.

“One minute,” Changkyun calls and switches on the faucet. Yes, he’s better off keeping his feelings and thoughts to himself this time. He won’t say anything so Hyunwoo can say nothing to him. He’s just protecting himself.

*

He catches the other lingering longer than usual in the kitchen even though the purpose of his trip to the kitchen was for a glass of juice. Hyunwoo is slow to get himself a cup and even slower to pour the homemade concoction into his glass. He spends time (too much, to be fair) measuring the appropriate amount of juice and meandering his way around like it was something he’s always done whenever Changkyun was in the same room as him. It’s deliberate. Changkyun knows right away; the other is trying to stick around, as though to finally tick the other off just from his mere presence but Changkyun says nothing. Instead, he raises his book a little higher so it hides his face and slumps a little more on the couch. He focuses his attention on his novel, but he can’t help the way his attention keeps drawing back to Hyunwoo shuffling around the kitchen. He doesn’t look and makes no effort to, since looking would mean that he’s interested in whatever Hyunwoo is doing or at the very least lower his guard, but the other finally leaves after wandering around a little bit more. Changkyun finally lowers his physical barrier with a small sigh.

The atmosphere between them is thick. He senses concern radiating off of Hyunwoo, but there’s also something else. Something that feels hostile, though Changkyun can’t quite put his finger on it. A part of him feels sick about it, from the anxiety of thinking about Hyunwoo lashing out at him. Trapping him in a corner, or grabbing him, or hitting him. But he ignores the knot in his stomach, convinced that there isn’t much for the man to be angry about when it was he who wronged Changkyun in the first place.

Changkyun fingers the crisp corners of the pages and worries his lip for a moment as a new thought enters his constantly running mind. Perhaps he should speak to the other about what he had said that night? Rather than avoiding Hyunwoo and skirting around the topic he can try and discuss the problem between them like adults. He’ll admit, the cold shoulder tactic is undeniably childish. The man looks perplexed by the sudden change in attitude, clearly confused by the way Changkyun had gone from friendly to distant. Suddenly, he remembers the reason why he refuses to talk to the other and bitterly decides that it’s for his own good. Frustrated by wall he’s run into, he concludes that things are better off being this way. 

*

Something is wrong, and he has a feeling it has to do with what he said a week and a half ago.

Changkyun is unresponsive to everything he does, and each day it escalates until the boy has completely stopped talking to him. It…

It kind of hurts.

Hyunwoo dislikes the sudden aloofness. He’s learned that Changkyun is reserved and attempting to coax him out of his shell takes immense effort. With the boy retreating back as well as displaying a tendency to avoid confrontations, it both frustrates and upsets Hyunwoo that the boy he has spent almost a month trying to talk to has lapsed back to his former withdrawn nature. Their relationship has taken two steps back.

Something is definitely wrong, but he just isn’t sure what has caused the relapse and what he can do. All efforts are shot down by the boy, and all attempts to ask for answers are denied. Changkyun is stubborn.

He exhausts all his ideas. Gently telling the boy he’s there for him is fruitless; attempting to trick him into answering questions and revealing his thoughts is a bust as Changkyun catches on quickly; prying is the worst tactic because it upsets the boy immensely. Everything he does proves to be futile and nothing will crack the other’s exterior. Changkyun draws further and further back until he turns into an eerie shell of himself, quiet and unmoving. It hurts him to see the boy like this, because he knows that he’s a partial if not full cause for Changkyun's behavior. But Changkyun refuses to speak to him and Hyunwoo can’t get to him, so all he does is helplessly stand off to the side and watch with frustration as Changkyun seems to struggle with something internal. Hyunwoo hates feeling like he can’t do anything, and he hates it even more because he can’t fix whatever he’s caused. He’s not that close to Changkyun, it’s true; but he had hoped that they would grow closer. He was elated when the other grew more amiable towards him, and though it’s still too early to say for sure Hyunwoo knows he feels some sort of fondness towards the boy. He wants Changkyun to like him, but whatever had happened has caused him to grow distant on purpose.

Hyunwoo shakes his head beneath the hot jet of water and sighs. He needs to find the root of the problem. He recalls their conversation that fateful night and what he had said. Nothing that came from his mouth sounded offensive. _I see you as a person._ How could that be taken out of context? His head spins with the confusing situation. Just what is the other so upset about? Everything comes to a dead end; he keeps asking and asking but no answers come. They play a game of chase, but no matter how hard Hyunwoo tries he gets nothing. He’s frustrated. He’s angry. He’s upset.

He’s worried.

Underneath the red-hot heat of irritation, he’s worried and perhaps even scared. He’s never been given the cold shoulder by his friends, so this is a first. And with the age gap between him and Changkyun it almost feels like he’s trying to pry answers from a child, but the child won’t yield no matter what. He’s worried about Changkyun hurting himself. Not only does he have to be responsible for injuries, but he has to deal with a guilty conscience for days; he didn’t try hard enough, or he didn’t care enough.

He runs into the boy on his way out the bathroom. Changkyun is taken by surprised, his eyes widening a little from being startled. In moments he regains his composure and slips past the other without a single word.

Something is terribly off, but Hyunwoo doesn’t know what.

*

“If you’re going to stay mad then at least make it a little subtler.” Hyunwoo gives him a good look and Changkyun can’t help but draw his lips into a thin line from vexation. Hyunwoo has a point, though: the boy has been making it far too obvious over the last few days that he’s been angry at the other.

But Changkyun believes his emotions are justifiable. He’s upset by the idea that he’s just a useless little boy living with a successful man with no future and essentially no life, and Hyunwoo is a physical reminder of such an idea. He’s a businessman, the CEO of a top makeup company, overseer of power and wealth so innumerable that Changkyun can’t wrap his head around just how much power and wealth the other holds. Compared to him, Hyunwoo is the epitome of a successful life well lived; Changkyun is merely a lost lamb, blindly stumbling about until he dies. Thus, that makes his behavior acceptable.

“How come you won’t tell me what I’ve done to make you upset?” Hyunwoo neatly lays down his chopsticks and folds his hands, gaze on the boy. Changkyun refuses to look, because he knows that if he looks right at the man his weakness will show. No, if he looks at Hyunwoo then he’ll just be reminded of how useless he is and cry tears that he’s been trying to hold back for the last few days.

“I know you’re mad at me over what I said. There’s nothing else for you to be mad about.” Changkyun tightens his jaw and refuses to let his emotions win him over. He won’t cry in front of the other. He’s not a little boy anymore.

“I’d rather not talk about it. Just leave me alone.” He stabs his chopsticks through a chunk of chicken and glares, knowing that with his attitude it’s bound to give him a lecture or worse yet, a beating.

“At least tell me what I said that’s made you so irritated. I can’t read your mind.”

“Why do you care about me all of a sudden?” Changkyun snaps.

“Because you’re young and vulnerable and miserable after giving up a good future for this.” Hyunwoo extends his arm out and gestures around the neat kitchen, at all the fanciest kitchen appliances and clean furnishings that seem to only hold superficial purposes.

“You’re just saying that out of pity,” the boy accuses through narrowed eyes. “You don’t know what my life was like prior to this, anyways.”

“Because you never tell me. You don’t trust me enough to tell me anything.”

“Because you’d never understand!” The barstool squeaks against the wood floor as Changkyun jumps off his seat and briskly walks away. The man follows after him and catches up quickly. He grabs the other by the wrist and spins Changkyun around to face him.

“Changkyun, please. Just tell me what’s wrong with you. Holding everything in isn’t good for you mentally. You’re going to burst eventually.” He’s right.

“I told you, you’d never understand. You won’t understand anything I tell you.” Changkyun tugs against the other’s hold but finds that the grip on his wrist only tightens. “Let go,” he hisses and pulls against the other’s vice-like grip.

“Not until you tell me. I’m tired of being ignored, and frankly I’m pissed that you’re acting like all your problems can be fixed by pretending it’s not even in the room. You’re acting like a child right now.”

“I’m not acting like a child! Let go of me!” Changkyun hits the other square on the chest, but Hyunwoo hardly bats a lash at the blow.

“Adults confront and discuss their problems. Children run away from it.”

“I’m not a fucking kid!” Before he can throw another punch aimed right for Hyunwoo’s throat the man catches his free hand and pins it down. He’s caught in a place he really doesn’t want to be right now. Frustrated by the outcome of their argument and his inability to get away, he cusses at Hyunwoo. “Bastard! I hate you,” he growls and throws another string of expletives as he continues his struggle. Hyunwoo jerks him forward, causing him to stumble into his chest and stop the boy’s attempts to get out of his hold.

“Tell me before I do something I regret.” For the first time since their first meeting, Hyunwoo’s eyes go hard and he gives the boy a dangerous stare. “I’m absolutely capable of winning against you in a fight. Don’t test me.” He tightens his hold on Changkyun’s wrists as a warning. The boy is bold, though. 

“You’re not entitled to know about my feelings and I’m not obligated to share anything with you. I choose to not tell you anything, so fuck off,” Changkyun venomously spits. Hyunwoo huffs a small laugh in amusement, cocks his head to the side, and just stares and stares at the boy. He says nothing all the while, just simply stares at the other, causing Changkyun to grow more and more uncomfortable until he snaps, “What?”

“You’re right, I’m not entitled to know anything about your feelings and you don’t have to share them if you don’t want to.” The harsh, almost threatening tone from moments ago is gone and replaced by a more softer voice. Contemplative, it seems. “But what you don’t realize is that it’s good to share. It’s true that it’s hard to tell somebody your most private thoughts, especially when you believe that they won’t understand you or give you the answer you wanted.” Hyunwoo briefly pauses to collect his thoughts and continues. “I know something has been bothering you and all I ask is that you tell me what’s wrong so I can give you the right advice or simply offer a shoulder for you to lean on. There’s no reason for me to use your emotions against you. What will I gain from it?” Hyunwoo finally lets go of the boy’s wrists. Changkyun examines them for injuries and suddenly feels as though he’s listening to a parent speak to him. He’s not sure what to say and whether he should say anything to interrupt the other. The anger and hostility he felt earlier has subdued and in its place stands guiltiness. Perhaps Hyunwoo had pure-hearted intentions from the beginning after all.

The words get caught in Changkyun’s throat and he swallows down the lump just beginning to form. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he manages to mumble, the fight suddenly gone from him. The boy hugs his arms to his body and looks down at his feet. Even if he believes everything the man tells him and trusts that the other will uphold his words it just feels like he’s not ready. He’s not physically ready to get his side of the story out, and he’s not emotionally prepared to deal with the heavy burden that his words will bring to himself. He’s too weak confront his own problems. That’s the truth.

They part ways after another minute, the man shooing him off so that he can do the dishes in peace. Changkyun takes the opportunity to hide in the bathroom and stifle his pained cries with running water from the shower.

*

Hyunwoo’s words still cling to him when he wakes up the next morning, heart and mind heavy with thoughts he wishes would go away. He’s tired of being plagued by the same thoughts over and over again. He just wants to go back to how his life was prior to this entire mess: carelessly blissful, with nothing to worry about besides what to do for the day. And truthfully, he just wants to be able to act normally around the other again. He misses the stupid jokes Hyunwoo cracks, their light bickering and the man’s fatherly mannerisms. He should’ve just said something from the start, let the other know that he was hurt, discuss and confront like he had said last night, but Changkyun is scared. He’s scared that he won’t know what to do if Hyunwoo doesn’t know what to do. He’s scared of what the future brings. 

He rarely cries (the last time was over a film about a loyal dog awaiting its dead owner he saw when he was fifteen) and when he does he usually does it in the safety of an empty home or tiny room. He’s in the middle of making tea when he suddenly breaks down due to the stress of all the thoughts that have been piling onto him over the last few days. Changkyun sinks to the floor as the first wave of sobs wracks his body like an earthquake. He pulls his knees up to his chest and buries his face in his hands, the faint feeling of shame and embarrassment building up as he realizes just how stupid it must to be crying over something so trivial as a role. But it’s not stupid; he’s lived his entire life wondering just where he fit in the world and how he could etch his influence into society when expectations were so high it was nearly impossible weighed him down. It’s not just that; there are dozens of other problems that encapsulate him at the exact same moment and he’s just overwhelmed. It’s the first time he’s had to face the problem of what he should really be doing with his life if he’s no longer a slave for the rich. All this time he’s just pretended that problem wasn’t there by focusing on menial tasks and pleasing his masters.

The second wave hits him harder than the first, so much so that he doesn’t hear the click of the door and soft footsteps from Hyunwoo’s dress shoes. Changkyun only starts to stifle his dry sobs when he hears the man’s voice call out to him, hoping that Hyunwoo won’t find him crumpled up on the kitchen floor so he can sneak his way into the bedroom to pretend that he’s been asleep the entire time. He makes the mistake of removing his hand, allowing his voice to betray himself as a hiccup manifests from his throat.

Hyunwoo immediately finds him sitting on the kitchen floor with puffy red eyes and prominent wet tracks running down his cheeks, a sight that Changkyun wishes the other wouldn’t ever have to see, which sends him into another wave of fitful crying because boys don’t cry and he feels ashamed that he has to be seen in such a vulnerable and weakened state. Crying by himself is one thing; crying in front of Hyunwoo is another. But Hyunwoo says nothing about him crying, doesn’t even ask why, and just joins him on the kitchen floor as he pulls the boy into a warm hug that envelopes his entire body. He rocks back and forth as he gently pats Changkyun’s back like his mother would do when he was younger, and that makes him cry harder because he hasn’t thought about his parents for so long that he had forgotten about them.

“I don’t know what to do,” Changkyun somehow manages to get out despite the hiccups and occasional sobs getting the best of him. “I want to be normal again, but being normal means I have to give being a slave.” Hyunwoo rubs circles into his back, saying nothing all the while. The boy is fine with that, though. He just needs to let everything out, no matter if Hyunwoo ends up giving him advice or not.

“I don’t know what my purpose is. I’m not going to do anything worthwhile in life. What’s the point? I’m hardly a spectacular person, in and out of school. I—I’m useless as a person. But as a slave, I’m—“ Changkyun cuts himself off and bites the inside of his mouth to stop another wave of tears. He takes a deep breath before continuing. “As a slave I was actually useful. Even though I hated the people I was around I at least served some sort of purpose. As a normal member of society, what is my purpose? What am I supposed to do? I can’t even do anything right without fucking up. That’s why I always changed masters.” Hyunwoo doesn't respond. He just continues to rock and pat and rub his back until Changkyun finally calms down, and it’s the first time he’s been comforted like this. It’s also the first time they’ve been this close since their fight. There’s no awkwardness in Hyunwoo’s motions, no tensed-up body as he holds Changkyun against his chest, no hate or disdain or the desire to quickly get away from the crying boy. He evokes a paternal aura, something that Changkyun has dearly missed ever since his departure from home and had to live with men old enough to be his father. Even though Hyunwoo is a generation or two younger than them he still manages to act like a better father figure than most. Changkyun sniffles as he brings himself back down, a small sigh breaking from his lips as he catches his breath from his hard sobs and feels the man brush away the remaining tears with his thumb.

“So how come you got upset when I said that I saw you as a person?”

Changkyun dips his head and sighs. “I...it’s almost embarrassing to say. From your point of view, anyways. It makes perfect sense to me.”

“I understand where you’re coming from. I just want to know what made you so upset towards me in the first place.”

Changkyun sniffles and scrubs the back of his hand across his face. “You took it away from me,” he mumbles under his breath. “You made me confront something I’ve been trying to ignore this entire time.”

“Take what away?”

“I don’t know. It’s complicated. Can we just drop the subject now?” Hyunwoo sighs, but nods. He seems content with the answers finally given to him, even if they hardly explain much.

“Let’s get you washed up for dinner,” Hyunwoo murmurs against his hair. Before Changkyun can peel himself away from the other Hyunwoo has already scooped him up into his arms and stands up. Changkyun is too emotionally drained to make a comment or to feel embarrassed. He just finished crying in front of Hyunwoo; what else is there to be embarrassed about? Compliant because he’s tired, Changkyun merely allows the other to carry him into the bathroom and place him on the marble counter. As Hyunwoo wets a soft face cloth with warm water, the last sigh leaves the boy’s lips. 

Changkyun shuts his eyes and lets the man run the damp cloth over his face, erasing the dried tear tracks from his cheeks and reducing the puffiness of his eyes. Hyunwoo is gentle throughout the task, one hand cupping the base of Changkyun’s neck and the other wiping his face clean. When he opens them again, Hyunwoo is staring at him. Something is on his mind.

“Did you mean it when you said you hate me?” Along with the question, a worried look in Hyunwoo's eyes startles Changkyun. He was not expecting such a question from the man.

“I—of course not. It was just in the heat of the moment.” Changkyun looks down at himself and watches his feet swing above the ground. “It would be hard to hate someone like you. You’re actually nice.” At least for now, he thinks.

“Did the others…?”

“They didn’t care about me like you do. You went out of your way to make sure I was okay. So…thank you. I guess.”

“I guess?”

“Don’t push your luck.” Changkyun goes for a punch, but Hyunwoo is quick to catch his hand. The man gives him a grin before letting go of his fist. His smile suddenly falls into a soft look.

“Thanks for telling me,” Hyunwoo says quietly. “I’m sorry for being an asshole and making you upset.”

“You were just trying to make me say something.” Changkyun glances down at his lap and shrugs. “I should be the one saying sorry for making you worry about me. And hurting you by pushing you away and giving you bad attitude.”

“It’s okay.” He ruffles Changkyun’s hair. “So, are we back on good terms?”

“Get me dinner and we’ll discuss.”

Hyunwoo laughs and playfully cuffs the boy. “Alright, dinner it is.”

Changkyun learns that he can’t stay mad forever. Not only is he incapable of it, but he’s simply unable to stay angry towards Hyunwoo for very long. Hyunwoo is different. The only similarities between him and the others is their work and life. But the key difference that distinguishes him from the rest is that he cares. Even though it’s insignificant to most of the population, it means so much for Changkyun that someone genuinely cares enough about him to ask what’s the matter. Nobody has really asked if he’s okay; people assume that he’s fine. 

For the first time, he’s thankful that he has changed masters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for patiently waiting for the next update. Writing this particular chapter was a challenge for me; I was extremely dissatisfied with what I had in the beginning and though I had a general idea of where I wanted the story to go I just couldn't write it out, or bend the story in a way that could satisfy me. Even though I've finally finished, I still feel somewhat discontent about what I've put out. I wanted to stretch the conflict out, leave everybody wanting for that resolution between the two and jump for joy when they finally do, but at the same time it was getting repetitive to repeat the same thing over and over again. So, I hope this 5k chapter is long yet short enough to resolve that situation :)
> 
> The original final draft I sent to my beta was 13k words long (WROW) but she recommended I cut it in half, to which I agreed with. As a thank you present chapter 8 will be up later or tomorrow, depending on my mood ^^
> 
> Thank you to everyone for reading, leaving kudi(?) and commenting. It means so much to me :D


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _It's nice to finally call you my friend._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter :) Thanks to everyone who has read and left comments already! I can't express how much it really means to me.
> 
> Since I'm on break I hope the upcoming chapters will be up quick :D

“Get up. We’re going out today.” Hyunwoo nudges the boy by the shoulder, eliciting a soft mumble of confusion from Changkyun as he startles awake.

“Where?” Changkyun grumbles and pushes himself up on his elbows. He looks at the clock hanging above the desk and notices through his stupor that it’s only eight in the morning. It’s only been at least a day or two since he and Hyunwoo have made up. It’s almost like he’s been waiting for them to make up before dropping plans on him.

“I got people to meet today and groceries to buy for the week,” the man explains as he wanders around the room in some sort of daze, having to seemingly forgotten the purpose of going from one end of the room to another. “And I was thinking that maybe it’s time that you get some new clothes since you’ve mostly been wearing my stuff for approximately a month now.” He finally remembers what he needs to do and immediately returns to his closet to search for an outfit. The schedule for the day sounds enticing for Changkyun, since he hasn’t been outside in public for what has been apparently a month since Hyunwoo has first purchased him. Memories of his first night suddenly flood him, along with one particular detail.

“Your birthday is coming up,” Changkyun states, prompting the man to turn just slightly towards him.

“It is,” Hyunwoo confirms with a slight nod. “I’ve already planned a birthday party—well, my friends have—and it’s supposed to be here.” Changkyun makes a small, mostly inaudible sound of disgust under his breath. He really hates parties and would have stayed home if he could, but the party is going to be at home which means there's really no other place for him to escape to. It isn’t Hyunwoo’s fault, though; the party has been presumably planned months before Changkyun’s arrival, and it was under supervision of Hyunwoo’s friends. He has a faint feeling the other isn’t too fond of parties, or social gatherings of any kind.

“Up, up.” Hyunwoo nudges the other as he passes by with his outfit draped across his arm. “If you don’t get your butt out of bed I’m not getting you breakfast.”

“But it’s Monday,” Changkyun protests, as if the day of the week itself was more than enough reason for him to stay in bed a little longer. He rolls over and burrows beneath the sheets, savoring the warmth for another moment or two before he’s forcibly dragged out of bed. The boy falls on the cold ground with a hollow thud and scrambles up to lessen skin contact with the floor. He suddenly finds a bundle of clothes heaped into his arms and with one more nudge gets sent to the bathroom to change and get ready.

Changkyun finishes his morning routine quickly thanks to the man’s constant egging for him to hurry through the bathroom door. The boy tugs on his only pair of jeans along with a white and black sweater that Hyunwoo had selected for him. It’s soft, hangs loosely around his thin frame, and smells like Hyunwoo. Fancy cologne mixed with fabric softener. He catches himself sniffing the collar once or twice as he’s waiting for Hyunwoo to collect his keys and bag.

He hasn’t seen the pearl cream hallway, ruby red carpet and paintings in a while and he welcomes the new scenery with a slight smile. He’s delighted to finally be out of the penthouse and stretch his aching body. He’s been locked up in that glass tower for too long and is excited to finally go out and explore, even if under Hyunwoo’s supervision. Strangely, he’s okay with his lack of control in this situation. Perhaps he’s just willing to withstand anything just for the sake of going outside for a day.

The receptionist greets them on their way out and a spark of recognition lights up in her eyes as the two passes by. Changkyun doesn’t remember what the receptionist looked like the first time he stepped foot into the lobby, but he’s positive that it was the same woman if she looked at him that way. Perhaps she knows that Changkyun isn’t a simple intern but rather something more private, but there’s nothing to indicate whether or not she would know. People assume, anyways. Maybe she has other assumptions about what Changkyun could be besides a slave. For a moment, his mind goes back to the night where he met Hyunwoo for the first time and how intimidated he had felt. Then it replays all that had happened over the last month, everything from his first night to Hyunwoo’s avoidance to Changkyun’s uncertainty, to Hyunwoo’s attempts to get closer and Changkyun’s doubts and finally—his mood drops—to the night he was proclaimed as not a slave, but just a mere boy; a boy who is useless in the grander scheme of things. For the first time, he shakes the thoughts away. He’s not going to let them get him down.

“We’re going to go to my friend’s house real quick. He’s the owner of a clothing brand and we usually work together. I need to discuss our plans with him for an upcoming fashion show that we’re supposed to be a part of,” Hyunwoo explains as he approaches his car, a sleek black sports car of some sort, and unlocks it after fumbling with his keys for a moment. “He’s friendly. I think you’ll like him, or at the very least be fine around him. He gets kind of touchy so if you’re not comfortable with him touching you just let him know. He won’t be upset.” A short pause, and Hyunwoo mumbles under his breath, “Hopefully,” which is followed by a small sigh.

“Why would he be upset?” The boy wonders.

“Because he’s kind of sensitive,” Hyunwoo answers. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but...ah, I’m not sure how to put it without sounding like an asshole.” He laughs and concludes by telling the other that his friend has a tendency to get overemotional. “Which isn’t a bad thing,” Hyunwoo adds, and Changkyun has the slightest feeling that the other has been thinking about all that has happened over the week; that, or he is simply being mindful.

The car ride to this man’s house isn’t particularly long, which leaves Changkyun strangely disappointed. After a week of ignoring and fighting and finally making up Hyunwoo recalls everything that has happened to him at work, and Changkyun shares interesting bits of facts that he learned from documentaries he watched and updates on the games he has played. Changkyun realizes he misses the (somewhat) close relationship they had, their ability to joke around comfortably with one another, the way Hyunwoo made him feel...different. Different in that he finally felt cared about, that he could finally just be normal around somebody, that he could finally make a friend.

As Hyunwoo pulls his car up to an empty curb the boy stares out the window in awe. The home itself is designed simply with a white facade and a flat black roof lined with solar panels. It’s a two-story home, and each floor has three windows. There’s a balcony jutting out from the front, which is decorated with a little olive-green couch and some potted plants. There’s a driveway with a red sports car parked in front, and Changkyun grows a little envious of the rich men and their cars. A black gate blocks people from entering, but Hyunwoo has the keys. He opens the gate after locking his car and ushers Changkyun in before following suit and shutting it behind him.

To Changkyun’s surprise, there’s a neat garden patch lined up against the left side of the cobblestone path that’s fenced off with miniature white picket fences. Little greens shoots are still in the process of growing, but he notices that there’s a tomato plant with little green bulbs hanging from the vines. The rows of vegetables are lined up perfectly and the soil looks dark, which means that somebody had watered them perhaps no more than thirty minutes ago. For a moment, Changkyun wonders if Hyunwoo’s friend has servants. Though the house looks small and rather simple, there’s a possibility of him having one or two maids.

They reach the front door made of dark cherry wood and before Hyunwoo has a chance to raise his closed fist and knock, the door swings open and a raven-haired man as equally broad-shouldered and strong-looking as Hyunwoo welcomes them in with a sweet smile and, surprisingly, a hug. He gasps loudly in the middle of hugging Hyunwoo when he spots Changkyun struggling to kick his sneakers off without bending down to untie them.

“Is this the new boy you were talking about?” The man unlatches himself from Hyunwoo and hurries over to Changkyun so he can pinch is cheeks. “He’s so cute!” The man exclaims with a little uncharacteristic giggle. Hyunwoo pushes the other man away and gently scolds him. The man pouts a little and whispers a retort that makes Hyunwoo punch him in the arm.

“I’m okay,” Changkyun reassures with a small laugh as he rubs the exact spot that the man had pinched. “I’m Changkyun. Nice to meet you.”

“Shin Hoseok,” the dark-haired man says with a little bow and charming smile. “Owner and creator of the top clothing brand called _Nouveau._ If you’re ever interested in a fresh take on current fashion, you know where to find me.” Hoseok flashes Changkyun a smile worthy of putting any friendly salesperson to shame.

“Stop promoting your clothing brand,” Hyunwoo snorts. “I don’t think your fashion sense would be suitable for him.”

“Why not? My clothes suit everybody.” Hoseok pouts, causing the other man to roll his eyes as he turns around to talk to the boy.

“Give us thirty minutes. If we take too long just come get me and we’ll leave to get breakfast, okay?” Hyunwoo tells Changkyun as he grabs the other man by the shoulder and guides him upstairs. He disappears with Hoseok before Changkyun can respond and the boy sighs a little. He’s left alone downstairs with nothing to do, but he figures that he can take a nap on the couch. That’d be rude though, wouldn’t it? Maybe he’ll just look around. That’s what people do when they’re left alone by themselves in a new place, right?

The interior of the house is just as simple as the outside, with white and dark gray walls and ashy wood floors. White couches are set up in front of a large LED TV mounted to the wall off to the left. A bookcase lines the wall beside the door. To the right, there’s a kitchen with a simplistic setup. White counters and black steel barstools at a white island, with white cabinets and steel appliances to complete the modern look. Most of the house is white, which kind of surprises Changkyun. It’s rather simplistic in design and layout, and for the owner of a clothing brand he had expected a home as fancy as Hyunwoo’s. Hoseok lives minimalistically and comfortably, though.

Changkyun wanders around the living room aimlessly for a few minutes, determining whether it would be rude to help himself to the books on the shelves or take a nap on the couch. He looks out the window besides a little reading corner complete with a white loveseat and floor lamp that looks like a fishing hook with a lantern attached to the tip. Even though he’s wearing socks, the white fur carpet in the corner is nice and soft. Changkyun entertains himself by shuffling around on the carpet and jumps in surprise when he notices a small face peek out around the corner where the stairs should be. It’s not Hoseok.

“Hello?” The face calls out, voice soft and somewhat gravely from sleep. It reveals the rest of its body, but not completely. “You’re Changkyun, right?”

“Yeah,” he replies, brow raised, and quickly puts himself into a defensive stance. “And you are?”

“Jooheon.” He steps out into full view. Dressed in an oversized sweater and what could be either nothing underneath or just shorts he looks as boyish as Changkyun does. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I was in my room when you and Hyunwoo arrived. I’m Hoseok’s boyfriend, by the way.” Jooheon smiles a little at the title, causing dimples to appear. He laughs a little. “It’s too early for me right now, so I apologize for my unseemly attire. Do you want something to drink or snack on while you’re waiting for Hyunwoo?” Changkyun is about to decline both when his stomach suddenly grumbles and he flushes pink. Jooheon laughs and asks him to sit down while he gets some milk and cookies. It’s not breakfast, but as long as he can save room for food later Changkyun is fine with whatever he can put in his stomach to keep it quiet for half an hour.

Changkyun makes himself comfortable on one of the couches and watches the other set down a tray with two mugs of milk and a plate of what looks like homemade cookies before sitting across the boy. Changkyun shifts in his spot, a little uncomfortable by his social situation and decides to reach for a cookie to keep his mouth busy. Maybe Jooheon will start a conversation if he stuffs his mouth. Jooheon apparently has the same idea as he does, so the both of them sit in complete silence as they chew their cookie and look at everything but the other.

“So,” Jooheon starts, and Changkyun wants to cringe at the tension that seems to hang in the air. Jooheon isn’t immune to the atmosphere and after a long, awkward pause that indicates his uncertainty he finally comes forward with a question.

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen,” Changkyun answers promptly. Jooheon sits up a little at that.

“I’m twenty,” he replies. “We’re not that far apart in age so I guess we can drop the politeness. Be a little more comfortable with each other, you know? I have a feeling this won’t be the last time we meet, considering that we spend a lot of time with Hyunwoo hyung.” Changkyun briefly stops mid-chew when he hears the honorific but continues like nothing happened. He hasn’t heard that in a while and for a moment had forgotten what it meant. He’s taken that word out of his vocabulary for a while and it almost sounds like something foreign and new to him.

“You and Hoseok hang out with Hyunwoo?” His stomach drops when he sees Jooheon glance up from his mug of milk to look at him, clearly noticing Changkyun’s failure to include the honorific. He makes no mention of it, though.

“All the time,” the brown-hair male confirms with a nod. “We invite him to dinners and parties and vice versa, but most of the time I feel bad because it feels like he’s just being a third wheel.” Jooheon giggles and fishes his soggy cookie out of his mug. “I think he feels that way sometimes but we try to include him as much as possible. With you around maybe he’ll finally stop playing third wheel.” Jooheon looks up from his lashes with a small smile that seems to suggest that he and Hyunwoo could start dating themselves, which Changkyun finds absolutely absurd. He plays off his incredulity with a laugh.

“How did you two meet?” He asks, redirecting the attention to Jooheon’s relationship rather than between him and Hyunwoo. Jooheon visibly tenses a little at the question.

“Circumstances,” he replies vaguely, distantly, with a look in his eyes that suggest the both of them had a rocky start. The cloudy gaze disappears within seconds though and Jooheon sits up with a cheery smile. “Anyways, enough about me. I want to hear about you.” Here come the questions, the ones that will reveal Changkyun’s true past and the entire story between him and Hyunwoo, and the cause of either contempt, disgust, or curiosity.

“What’s your favorite animal?”

Changkyun stupidly flaps his mouth like a fish for a moment at the question and catches himself. “Wolves, I guess.” He frowns a little, uncertain as to why the other threw such a simplistic and boring question at him but decides that it’s much better than answering a question pertaining to how he and Hyunwoo met.

“Favorite food?”

“Um, I don’t know. I like chewy stuff.” Jooheon cocks his head to the side, intrigued by the answer, but not enough to ask a follow up question.

“Favorite song genre?”

Changkyun has to think a little about this, but answers with “hip-hop and rap.” A spark of interest lights up Jooheon’s eyes.

“Who’s your favorite artist?” He hasn’t actually listened to music for a while due to his situation. Several of his prior masters disliked rap and hip-hop so he was essentially banned from listening to it and was instead filled with classical music and the occasional pop song. He decides to go with an artist he listened to as a high school junior, which seems to excite Jooheon judging by the way he sits up a little straighter.

They end up discussing music for several minutes, reminiscing on old artists and the music they produced. Jooheon reveals that he likes to make his own music as a hobby and offers to show him another day. He also writes his own song lyrics but is bashful when asked what they were about.

“It’s sappy stuff. Like love and all that,” Jooheon laughs and rubs the back of his head. “I think about Hoseok a lot when I write.” Changkyun has written song lyrics before, but it was in the fifth grade and he never fully considered being an artist when his entire life was already laid out for him by expectation and his parents’ own work. Theoretically, he could start making music now that he’s away from those expectations. But as a slave—at least, a former one—he still has a job to do, if he could even consider himself as still having a job. He’s technically jobless. A free-lancer, at this point.

Heavy footfalls land against wooden floors, prompting the two of them to look up from the discussion and watch both men walk downstairs. Hoseok’s eyes light up when he sees his partner sitting on the couch and hurries down the last few steps to reach Jooheon.

“Morning, honey. I see that you’ve met Changkyun.” He kisses the top of Jooheon’s head and ruffles his brown locks. Jooheon eagerly leans into the other’s touch and a part of Changkyun is jealous that he doesn’t receive the same affection as Jooheon does. Then again, there’s nothing to love about slaves besides their use.

“So, I guess I’ll see you on Thursday,” Hyunwoo says as he checks his watch. He gestures for Changkyun to follow him. “Should I bring some of the latest samples with me?”

Hoseok nods. “The newest ones, as well as several other specific products like your autumn collection. I’ll text you a list of all the things I need.” The man starts towards the door to let his guests out but stops mid-stride to turn around and look at Hyunwoo. “We also need a model,” he says. “Hyungwon will still be in Paris by Thursday. Is Hyojung available?”

“She’s supposed to be catching a flight to England for a lingerie show Thursday morning.” Hyunwoo’s eyebrows furrow together as he tries to think of potential candidates. Hoseok starts with a suggestion, but quickly backtracks when he remembers that the person he thought of was attending a wedding for a relative that day. Hyunwoo offers up two more people, but quickly remembers that the both of them have gone off for a spring vacation to Amsterdam. Changkyun watches the exchange with intrigue, for this is the first time he's seen this side of Hyunwoo; his working side, so to speak.

“What about Jooheon?” 

“I was already booked for a photoshoot since last week. Sorry, Hyunwoo hyung.” Jooheon pouts.

“Everybody is so busy on Thursday,” Hoseok huffs and crosses his arms. “I can’t think of anybody who would be free!” Hyunwoo blows air in frustration. A sudden loud growl breaks the silence and concentration on the men’s face. Everybody looks over to where the sound had originated from, which happens to be where Changkyun is. He’s been eating a cookie the entire time as a way to stave off the emptiness in his stomach while the men figured out who their model could he. Changkyun can feel himself go hot with embarrassment and he quickly dips his head to offer an apology.

“He could work,” Hoseok murmurs after a brief, meditative pause. “I assume he doesn’t really have much of a schedule?”

“Not really,” Hyunwoo murmurs back. “He just sits at home.” The men fall silent as they stare at Changkyun, considering his eligibility to be a model. The calculating stares reminds him of his early days as a slave, when he felt uncomfortable with the way people would look too long at his slim body and judge like he’s meat. He feels uncomfortable with any type of staring, and suddenly feels nauseous with the way Hoseok and Hyunwoo’s eyes examine every detail of him, from his face to even his figure.

“Oh, look at the time,” Jooheon suddenly chirps from behind Changkyun and jumps to his feet. “I think it’s time for our guests to leave. You and I still have work to finish, and I assume these two are busy as well.” Changkyun uses this opportunity to escape the men’s gaze and silently thanks Jooheon for the distraction.

“Right! Sorry to keep you two held up.” Hoseok guides Hyunwoo and Changkyun to the door. His hulking figure is just about the same size as Hyunwoo when he stands next to the other man, and with the two of them standing side-by-side Changkyun feels like he could be squashed like a bug.

“It was nice meeting you, Changkyun. I hope we can meet again.” Hoseok smiles, effectively erasing all the assumptions the boy had about the other. He looks like a genuinely nice man, and Jooheon appears to be very fond of him for good reasons.

“It was nice chatting with you,” Jooheon calls from the kitchen. Changkyun waves goodbye to the couple and steps into the warm morning sunshine. The dark door shuts behind him and he hops off the steps to catch up to Hyunwoo.

 

“Ah! Shit,” Hyunwoo exclaims on their way to breakfast, ten minutes after leaving Hoseok’s house. “I still don’t know who our model on Thursday will be.”

“I’m okay with being a model for you guys,” Changkyun says. “It sounds fun.”

Hyunwoo glances over at the other, a sort of skeptical look crossing his features. “You sure?” He asks. It’s like he knows that the boy dislikes being around other people, which Changkyun is grateful for. He’s thankful that Hyunwoo asks him first instead of throwing him into plans that he might not be comfortable with.

“Yeah. It’s not like I do anything productive at home, anyways. And I’m kind of sick of doing the same old thing over and over again. Sleeping, eating, playing video games. That’s all I do.”

Hyunwoo chuckles. “A lot of kids would pay thousands to be in your place right now.”

“Well, I think if that’s what they want to do that’s kind of sad. They should be happy that they get to go to school and have a job and live a normal life.” The atmosphere grows somber at Changkyun’s comment, and all Hyunwoo can do is pat his head and utter a half-assed joke in some kind of reassuring manner.

 

As promised, Changkyun gets his pancakes. The cafe they go to is popular for the animal-themed menu, and Changkyun ends up having a field day as he browses through his options. He settles for bear-themed pancakes, which are decorated with whipped cream for its white snout, chocolate chips for its eyes, nose and mouth, and sliced strawberries for a blush. It’s too cute to eat and Changkyun falters with his knife and fork poised over the innocent creature until Hyunwoo steals a chunk of its ear. The boy gives him a dirty look, which the other laughs at.

“We still have to go shopping,” Hyunwoo says over a mouthful of the ear. He types something into his phone and purses his lips a little in thought. “You need new clothes, I need a new suit for the upcoming gala, and we need groceries for the week.” He glances up from his phone and looks down at the street from their perch on the second floor to reflect on something for a moment. It’s enough time for Changkyun to ask about the gala. “It’s a party exclusively for CEOs and executive members of other companies,” Hyunwoo explains, and suddenly snickers. “Now that I think about it, that’s kind of reinforcing stereotypes of rich people.”

“Can other people get in? Like employees and stuff?”

“Only with special permission from whoever is hosting, which happens to be me this year.” Changkyun nods and stuffs his mouth with a rather large chunk of food. He’s in the middle of putting another forkful of pancakes into his mouth when Hyunwoo asks if he’s interested in going, to which he declines immediately without a second thought.

“How come?” Hyunwoo is quick to ask for a reason, but there's no malice behind his question.

“I guess I’m tired of parties.” That was sort of a lie; in truth, he enjoyed them on the premise of people-watching and entertaining gossip that he picked up, but otherwise disliked social gatherings.

“Ah, I suppose you wouldn’t like being around a bunch of older people,” Hyunwoo muses, and ends their conversation there with a sip of coffee.

They finally leave the cafe at around nine-thirty and set off for the mall. Changkyun watches buildings fly past in white blurs and notes that the cherry blossoms are in full bloom. The sidewalks are covered in the soft pink petals, creating a carpet for pedestrians to tread over. He lowers the window just slightly and catches the sweet scent of the blossoms. For a moment, Changkyun’s guard is lowered by the pleasantries of spring and he remains entranced by the sight before him until Hyunwoo clears his throat to catch his attention. He snaps back to reality and turns towards the man to acknowledge him.

“I have a question,” Hyunwoo begins. 

“And I have an answer.” The car slows to a gentle halt behind a van and Hyunwoo takes this time to sit back into his seat and look at Changkyun, an amused smile on his lips that eventually dies into a serious tight-lipped look. “Your masters...did they ever take you out?”

“Only for special occasions,” the boy murmurs and rests his head against his propped hand. “I stayed home a lot.” He never had the privilege of going out with his masters, mainly because they saw him as a sort of burden. It was like babysitting a child, even though Changkyun is capable of taking care of himself when in the company of the men. It was better if he stayed home and out of their way of their frivolous trips to their private islands. He only attended social gatherings for the rich, where he was dressed up and paraded around like a purebred dog. He was an accessory, an object to show off to the other rich men and women to generate envy. He was handsome in his navy vest and blazer, the blazer open enough for everybody to see the harness that accompanied his outfit. A harness that wrapped around his neck that was attached to two leather straps, each one trailing down his slender body and blended in with the navy of his clothes. A thin chain fell in the middle and swayed back and forth as he walked. That was his typical party outfit. He was attractive and his outfit gave him an air of submission. He gave in to each request, never protested during these social gatherings. He loathed the parties he was forced to attend; Hyunwoo’s gala only reminded him of that, though he knows full well that Hyunwoo wouldn’t dress him up like the others had for such an occasion. At least, he’s sure that Hyunwoo wouldn’t dress him up like a doll.

“That sucks,” Hyunwoo sighs. “You know, if you ever want to go out just let me know. I don’t want to keep you cooped up in the house all day. Even if all you want to do is go to the park and sit and do nothing I’d be more than happy to take you out.”

“I’d appreciate that.” Changkyun looks down at his feet.

 

The mall—or rather, a district well popular for multitudes of shops ranging from high-end to quint—is busy for a Monday morning. There’s no holiday or specific break for the students in school, and people are off to work. Most of the people who breeze past them are young; somewhere in their twenties, dressed fashionably, and—

Ah, that’s right. Rich. Only the rich could have the time to go shopping on a Monday morning, just like he and Hyunwoo.

A man in a suit and sunglasses bumps into Changkyun as they meander through the street, the boy scarcely paying attention to his surroundings. Through the large, dark lenses Changkyun can see the man’s eyes alight with anger at being touched by Changkyun until he sees Hyunwoo standing right beside him. The man quickly mutters an apology and scampers off.

“Careful. You’re going to get hurt.” Hyunwoo gently takes the boy by the arm and guides him through throngs of people. The crowd is large enough to leave Changkyun feeling breathless, like it squeezes the air out of his lungs every time they push in. The faceless entity pulsates around him, surrounds him, traps him within its body. Hyunwoo’s losing his grip on Changkyun. His hand eventually slides off the boy’s arm, leaving no line for Changkyun to follow to safety. Panic sets in. He suffocates and helplessly watches as the monstrous crowd swallows him whole like the whale that swallowed Jonah.

“Changkyun!” He whips around at a familiar voice. The dark heads bob up and down like the gloomy waves of a stormy ocean. Hyunwoo is nowhere to be found, but his voice can be heard somewhere in the distance. Changkyun strains to hear, desperate to return to the man’s side. He starts pushing his way through the crowd and realizes too late that he moved away from the voice. Changkyun cranes his neck to see past the heads and get a sense of direction, but the sea of people doesn’t stop for him and it continues to sweep him along their pathway. Just as he’s about to give up, he spots a familiar mop of hair bobbing in the sea of monochrome. Filled with determination, he forces his way through the crowd towards the man.

“Changkyun!” Hyunwoo’s voice audibly cracks as Changkyun grows closer and closer to the other, a sign that he’s exerted his vocal chords calling out for the boy. He can see the man and his denim jacket, anxiously twisting around as he searches the crowd of people for any signs of Changkyun. With a pounding heart, Changkyun reaches out.

“Hyunwoo!” The man quickly turns towards the sound of his name and with sharp accuracy finds Changkyun squeezing past a couple. He reaches out and Changkyun finally grabs ahold of his safety line. Hyunwoo pulls him out of the crowd and tugs him close to his body. Together, they finally break free from the sea of people. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s shaking until the man wraps his arms around him. Hyunwoo’s hold is strong like a mountain and he seems unfazed by the event while Changkyun trembles like a leaf. He tries to calm himself by breathing in deep and exhaling. Hyunwoo rubs comforting circles into his back.

“I didn’t mean to let go of you,” Hyunwoo finally says. “I thought I lost you. I—I deeply apologize.”

“It’s fine,” Changkyun murmurs. “I’ll be okay.” He takes a deep breath to calm his nerves before gently pushing the other away. “I’m not used to being around this many people.”

“We can go home if you want,” the man offers. Changkyun shakes his head. He’s not going back just because he got all worked up by a crowd of people.

“I’ll be okay,” he reassures the other. Hyunwoo gives him a look that suggests doubt but pushes no further. Though he never says a word about it, he stands noticeably closer to Changkyun as though to protect the other from another large crowd. His presence is comforting enough to let Changkyun lower his guard and breathe a little easier. The crowds don’t seem as daunting anymore with Hyunwoo playing bodyguard next to him, and the boy silently thanks the other.

 

“Are these okay?”

Changkyun turns towards the voice of the other and spots the thin-rimmed, round glasses that the man holds up. He puts back the flannel he was looking at and takes the glasses from Hyunwoo. The man looks expectantly at him, like he’s hoping to be thanked for helping him out. That, or he just wants to see what Changkyun looks like with the glasses, so he puts them on. Hyunwoo nods approvingly, and that’s another item that’s added to Changkyun’s growing closet. Suddenly, he realizes that there might be a problem with space.

“Do you think there will be room for all my clothes in your closet?” Changkyun asks, and quickly glances at four bags filled with clothes that the man is holding.

“Plenty,” Hyunwoo reassures him. “And if not, I can always just get a bigger closet. Don’t worry about how much you’re buying, I’ll take care of everything.” Changkyun bites his lip, feeling slightly guilty for leeching off the other, but quickly reassures himself by telling himself that Hyunwoo is a multi-billionaire and a shopping spree would hardly make a dent in his wallet.

After checkout, a fifth bag is added to the four that Hyunwoo has been carrying around while Changkyun wanders around shops looking for clothing that suits his taste. The two of them walk into the warm afternoon and collectively breathe a small, tired sigh. “Let’s take a break before we get my suit,” Hyunwoo suggests. “Then we can go to the grocery store and finally go home.”

Changkyun hasn’t felt physically tired from walking around in a while, and figures that it’s bad for somebody like him to be sitting on their ass all day. He certainly doesn’t live a very healthy lifestyle, and for a moment considers working out until two thoughts hit him: one, he dislikes working out; and two, he’s not sure if Hyunwoo would even bother to take him to the gym. He’s not even sure if Hyunwoo would want him at the gym, but he decides it wouldn’t hurt to try asking one day, if he ever feels motivated to start exercising on a weekly basis.

“Hey, you want a snack?” Changkyun falters for a moment, confused by the sudden question until he notices a food cart nearby selling _hotteok._ Without waiting for an answer, Hyunwoo leads him to the cart. He feels like a kid giddy and excited for a treat when he spots tan blobs of dough frying on the griddle.

“I used to eat these all the time,” Changkyun tells the other, without stopping himself. “My friends and I always rushed to this one place right after school because the lady went home around the time we left school. Honey was my favorite one.” Memories of his younger days flood back. They were pleasant; intermingling with the scent of sugar and fried dough was the bliss of having no responsibilities to tend to. The only problems he faced as a child was how much time was left to play with his friends before he had to return home. Suddenly, he feels bashful. Had he overshared?

It seems like he hasn’t, for Hyunwoo replies with his own memory. “I had a maid that used to make them for me when I was younger. She was kind of an artist and always drew pictures on them for me. They were the best,” Hyunwoo reminisces. “I don’t think I’ve had _hotteok_ since the winter holidays.

The man orders four pieces, two for each, in an assortment of flavors. As they resume their walk down the street, memories of middle and high school flood back as he tears open one pancake, the steam carried away by the slight breeze that blows their way. Warm, sticky honey oozes out and coats his thumb. He licks the sweet filling from his finger after sticking a piece in his mouth. Delighted by the nostalgic food he does a little shimmy.

“Good?” Hyunwoo asks, laughing.

“Amazing.” The man opens his mouth for a piece, the action due to his inability to tear a piece off himself because of his filled hands. Changkyun tears a large chunk off the honey-filled pancake and offers it to the other. Hyunwoo bites the piece and retreats with his mouth full, a pleased sound rumbling from his throat. The food puts the boy in a good mood, one where he’s happy to forget about the fight they’ve had and all the reasons he’s been upset about over the week. Hyunwoo seems to have dropped his concerns towards him and grows noticeably more affable. They’re back to their old selves again. This is what he’s always wanted and now he can finally have it, even though it isn’t perfect. Just him and Hyunwoo being comfortable around one another, acting like friends. 

“You know, this is the first time I’ve gone shopping in four months. I’ve been so busy that I’ve forgotten to do fun stuff.” Hyunwoo cracks a smile. “I kind of envy you.”

“What is there to get jealous about?” Changkyun asks with a shrug. He picks apart a second pancake, this one filled with peanut. “All I do is sit at home and do nothing.”

“Exactly,” Hyunwoo points out. “I work long hours and all I want to do is take a small break but I can’t.”

“How about I become CEO for a day and you just take a break?” Changkyun jokes. “I think I’d actually enjoy work for once.”

“I’ll take you up on your offer if I feel like I need a vacation.” The man ruffles the other’s hair in an almost affectionate manner before stealing a bite of _hotteok._ It’s the first time they’ve acted so normally and naturally around each other, and part of Changkyun wonders why he ever got upset in the first place. It’s...actually pleasant to be around Hyunwoo. He kind of wants to be around Hyunwoo more. He’s been so deprived of a normal relationship that he had forgotten that it was completely normal to befriend people. Hyunwoo’s different lifestyle and personality has allowed him to stop and realize that he’s hungry for a normal life, for a friend who he could talk to when he really needed one. 

“Hey,” Changkyun calls. The man glances at him. “I—um,” the boy starts, and realizes that it’d not only be embarrassing to spill his feelings in public and in front of the other but that it’d make him uncomfortable to explain to the other why he feels this way and that, so he simply settles with a word of appreciation. Hyunwoo can interpret it however he wants to in whatever way that fits his views. “Thanks,” he says, and drowns half the word with a mouthful of food. He looks away and feels the man’s puzzled, piercing stare bare right through his head. After what feels like an hour, he gets pulled into a hug by an arm around a neck and chokes mid-swallow.

“You kids and your inability to even thank people properly,” Hyunwoo says with a hearty laugh. He releases the other to allow him room to breathe and a soft look overcomes his normally stoic features. It’s strange how within a month people change dramatically.

 

Changkyun stretches out his feet, sore from all the walking they’ve done for several hours. He’s in the middle of cracking his back when Hyunwoo steps out of the dressing room, dressed handsomely in a simple black suit. It’s nothing fancy, and anybody could own at least one suit like the one he’s wearing no matter their socioeconomic status, yet the man somehow manages to make something so plain look very luxurious.

“Is this too fancy?” Hyunwoo asks the boy as he examines himself in a nearby fully-body mirror, turning slightly to check if his shoulders look any bigger in the suit jacket.

“What are you talking about? It’s not fancy enough.” Hyunwoo chuckles and smooths out the wrinkles collecting along the area where the inside of the elbows should be.

“I don’t really like dressing up fancy. I prefer casual clothes.” He makes a face at what seems to be a thought about formal parties, causing Changkyun to giggle in the background. That makes two people who are against parties, though.

“I think you look good in that suit. Not that there would be much difference if you tried on another one.”

“Because I’m handsome in anything no matter what?” Changkyun snorts and rolls his eyes as the other smiles at his own joke.

“All the suits look the same. There’s literally no difference, except that some of them may have a slightly different shade of black.”

“You make an excellent observation.” Hyunwoo looks himself up and down again before ultimately deciding to purchase the suit.

“No offense,” Changkyun starts from his seat behind the other, “but what’s the difference between this suit you’re getting versus the other ones you already have in your closet?”

“The color,” Hyunwoo replies seriously. “Most of the ones I already have are navy blue. Some are black.” He looks at the other from the mirror and a secretive smile suddenly creeps up his face.

“What?” Changkyun demands.

“Nothing,” Hyunwoo hums, and returns to the changing room without another word. The boy blows his fringe out of his eyes and pouts slightly, wondering just what the hell the other was being all tight-lipped for. He doesn’t bother to ask Hyunwoo about it on their way back to the car and completely forgets about it on their way to the grocery store. Worn-out from the higher-than-usual amount of exercise he’s gotten over the day he settles down for a quick nap. He wakes up half an hour later and finds that they’ve ended up in the parking garage back home.

“I didn’t want to wake you up,” Hyunwoo explains when the boy gets out of the car to help carry a multitude of shopping bags. “You were out cold.” Then, after a moment he adds, “You were drooling a little, too.” Appalled, Changkyun touches the corner of his mouth but finds nothing there. He catches the other snickering as he grabs the last shopping bags in the car and in a lighthearted manner calls Hyunwoo a vulgar name under his breath.

The female receptionist who saw them out earlier that day has been replaced with a male one when they walk through the lobby again. He’s engrossed in a novel but looks up to greet them as they pass by, and in that moment Changkyun and the man make eye contact that sends a nervous panic through his body. His bright eyes suddenly go hard as he draws connections and makes assumptions that could be what Changkyun believes to be what he thinks they are. He judges venomously, dangerously, and Changkyun hates how he squeezes closer to Hyunwoo to get away, which only gives the man more evidence to prove his theories. When they enter the elevator Changkyun is fidgeting too much for Hyunwoo to not notice.

“The receptionist—I think he knows about me,” Changkyun murmurs. “Or at least thinks we’re together. I don’t know. He was kind of giving me this nasty look.”

“Don’t worry about him. People can make whatever assumptions they want about us.”

“But your reputation will be affected because of rumors.” Hyunwoo doesn’t answer immediately, a sign that he at least takes his reputation seriously enough to mull over the consequences of being seen in public with a nineteen-year-old boy whom the public, especially the media, has never seen before.

“I’ll see what I can do,” Hyunwoo says when the elevator door dings to signal their arrival of the topmost floor. “Don’t worry about it. You shouldn’t be concerned about things I should be dealing with. It’s not your job.” He gently connects his fist with the side of Changkyun’s head and pushes him in a playful manner before stepping out of the elevator. The boy’s mind swims with a multitude of anxious thoughts but he doesn’t have time to ruminate on them on account of the elevator doors closing.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Honesty and integrity are by far the most important assets of an entrepreneur."

The bed dips noticeably beneath the weight of an additional body. Changkyun is barely half-awake when he registers the heat that quickly envelopes him, but too sleepy to acknowledge the other he just manages a small grunt. Hyunwoo presses flush against him. It’s the first time they’ve been this intimate. 

“What’s the occasion?” Changkyun sleepily mutters after several minutes pass, when the situation finally sinks in and he isn’t as dazed as when he had woken up. 

“Just cold. And a little sore. My back hurts from sleeping on the couch.” Hyunwoo’s breath is hot against the nape of Changkyun’s neck.

“You don’t have to keep sleeping on the couch, you know. I’m fine with you sharing a bed with me. I’m not picky.”

Hyunwoo hesitates before asking, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I kind of like sleeping with another person. It’s comforting. Keeps me warm, too.”

“You never slept with the others?”

“No. They didn’t like sleeping with me. I had my own separate room.” A pause.

“You...you’re absolutely sure you’re okay?” Hyunwoo gingerly wonders.

“I won’t be if you keep asking.” A puff of warm air ghosts across Changkyun’s skin as the man huffs a laugh.

“Alright, go to sleep. We have a big day tomorrow. I don’t need you falling asleep on me while you’re standing up with a face full of makeup.” Hyunwoo settles down beside the boy and exhales slightly. Changkyun shuts his own eyes. He watches the lights dance behind his eyelids until he feels the man become heavy beside him, a sign that he’s asleep. Quick yet cautiously, he flips over to face the man and buries himself into the cozy crevice Hyunwoo’s body naturally creates. The man smells like the ocean, perhaps due to the shampoo he uses.

Such an intimate act in such an interval of time should have felt odd, almost uncomfortable, to Changkyun. After all, he’s only known the man for a month and several odd days. He’s not used to sharing a bed with someone who is still somewhat of a stranger to him, and he’s certainly not used to being so physically close to someone in such a nonsexual way. Part of him feels strange by these outcomes, but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the close proximity between him and Hyunwoo. This intimacy, though almost foreign, is gladly welcomed, for he never got to experience it with the others. The platonic (if he can even call it that) way Hyunwoo holds him is undeniably pleasant. It should have been embarrassing to allow Hyunwoo to be so close to him so quickly but he realizes that after being isolated from others and a normal, healthy relationship he wants the intimacy. He wants the comfort a simple pat on the head or a hug can bring to him. He wants to be close to Hyunwoo, both in a physical and emotional way. 

And, it seems like he certainly isn’t the only one who wants to be closer. 

*

“Christ, Changkyun. Waking up early in the morning isn’t your thing, is it?” 

When he finally comes to, he finds his cheek pressed against the cold floor. With a loud, cat-like yawn he sits up, confused by how he ended up on the floor in his sleep and what the other wants from him. The alarm clock blinks a bright red 7:21am in his face. 

“Why’d you wake me up?” Changkyun asks, stifling another yawn. “I was having a nice dream, too.”

“It’s Thursday, remember?” Hyunwoo is fixing his hair in front of the full body mirror sitting in the corner of the room. Changkyun pushes himself up and watches the other across the bed, a puzzled expression fixing itself on his face for a moment as he attempts to figure out what the other means by that. Thursday? Did they have a special appointment on Thursday? 

“Oh, shit!” Changkyun exclaims and scrambles to his feet as it finally hits him. Hyunwoo straightens himself with a loud laugh. He points to the closet at the other end of the room. 

“I made room for your clothes in there. Go get ready while I make something for us. Then we’ll head out.” He pats Changkyun on the head as he breezes out the bedroom. Life has returned back to normal. 

After going through his normal morning routine, Changkyun re-enters the bedroom and starts making his way to the other side of the room where the closet is and notices that he’s holding his breath. He forces himself to take a deep exhale before sliding the door open. Inside is a multitude of black and navy blue suits; the usual attire for a businessman like Hyunwoo. Yet hidden in the dark monochrome sea are several interesting colors: white, cream, silver, red, even—

“Pink? He has a pink suit?” Changkyun wonders aloud with a loud gasp. He wasn’t expecting Hyunwoo to have such a color in his closet. And such a delicate shade of pink, too! The boy feels the fabric between two fingers. Pure silk. It’s almost like the suit was fashioned to replicate the petals of cherry blossoms. He’d have to ask the man about it later, but for now he needs to pick an outfit for the day. How long has it been since he last looked into his closet and wondered what to wear? Too long, it feels. All of his clothes were personally handpicked by the masters. 

He slides the door shut and moves on to another door. Upon opening it he’s awed by the spectacular array of colors sitting inside the dark cherry wood closet. A bright foreground to the dark background. 

His own clothes are pushed slightly to the left while Hyunwoo’s are slightly more towards the right. There’s a small gap between them to mark whose clothes are which. Changkyun spends a moment browsing through his clothes, overwhelmed by his selection. Everything is new and he wants to try them all on. It takes a good while, but he manages to settle on a plain white t-shirt and jeans accessorized with a plaid green flannel and the round spectacles Hyunwoo had made him try on at the mall. When he finally looks at himself in the mirror, it almost feels like he’s a new person. Changkyun plops down on the bed, suddenly overcome with such a strong emotion that he can’t help but actually cry. It's not that he’s sad; he’s ecstatic. He’s so happy that he can finally do what he wants and not what some old man wants, and that’s why he’s crying. They’re tears of joy. 

He scrubs the tears from his face and sniffs, once more checking himself in the mirror so that he looks presentable and Hyunwoo won’t suspect he was crying again. He doesn’t want to explain himself, even though he knows that the man is kind enough to lend an ear and shoulder. 

Hyunwoo is in the process of pouring himself a cup of coffee when Changkyun finally comes downstairs. The smile on his face disappears when he watches the other approach the kitchen and a surprised expression morphs his usual neutral look.

“You look handsome,” Hyunwoo says when the boy demands an answer for the staring. He snaps back to his normal self and sets the pot of coffee down on the counter as his smile returns. “I’ve been so used to seeing you wear pajamas that it’s almost weird to see you wear normal clothes. You picked a nice outfit, though. Hoseok might get a little jealous.” He chuckles at the mention of his friend and turns around to get another mug. 

“Hoseok is nice,” Changkyun thoughtfully murmurs as he sits down at the counter and watches the other set the mug down in front of him. He grabs the coffee pot and pours himself about half a cup. Without asking, Hyunwoo plops a carton of milk in front of him. “I know I’ve barely met him but he’s kind of like you. You’re both very nice. You’re not like the others.”

“Hoseok has always been nice. He would never hurt a fly. Well,” Hyunwoo pauses with a fond smile, “he’d be too scared to even get close to a fly. He’s a timid man despite his outer appearance.”

Changkyun twists the cap back on the cartoon of milk after carefully pouring it into his mug of coffee. “I guess you’re kind of like that, too. I mean, you’re not timid. But you’re intimidating on the outside.”

“And soft on the inside?” Hyunwoo asks, brows raising slightly. 

“Yeah,” the boy replies with a small giggle. “But I’m glad you are who you are.” The man makes a small, amused sound as he takes a drink from his mug but doesn’t inquire further. 

It’s like their fight never happened. 

Breakfast comes and goes, and the trip down to the parking garage passes in some kind of a blur. The female receptionist is back, and she’s clearly intrigued by the relationship between him and Hyunwoo. The man offers her a big, warm smile and a kind, almost shy greeting as he loudly tells Changkyun to hurry up or they would be late to work. He still has what Changkyun told him the night before in mind. A good thing; it’ll be soon until the receptionists starts gossiping about them and somebody with access to the media hears. Changkyun trusts that the the man knows what he’s doing. 

The ride to the company building isn’t long. It’s fifteen minutes at the most, twenty with traffic, but they arrive just as the digital clock on the stereo turns to 8 o’clock. Changkyun steps out of the car and shields his eyes from the sunlight glinting off the glass windows as he stares up. In front of him stands a proud building many stories high, a sign with what he presumes is the company name tacked right at the top of the building. To be frank, there’s nothing interesting about the building. It’s a normal glass skyscraper, modern and brand new. There’s nothing spectacular about the building itself besides how grand it is. Changkyun smiles to himself at this thought. Even the building’s exteriors are reflections of the people who own them. Grandiose but for no reason other than to look grandiose. 

“Welcome to Sun Cosmetics,” Hyunwoo says with a charming smile befitting of all men like him. It slowly melts into an embarrassed look. “I kind of want to change the name since it’s a little too boring for my taste, but since we’ve already established ourselves it would be a bad move to undergo a name change.”

“It’s a cute name,” Changkyun inputs. “Certainly not memorable, but it’s cute.”

“Avid makeup enthusiasts typically use our product names rather than the company name when discussing us since the actual products have more memorable names as you stated,” the man explains as he leads the way to the front of the building. Changkyun is momentarily distracted by a fountain, but a hand on his shoulder snaps his attention back. “Anyways, I would give you a tour of the building but going through forty-something floors would take a good chunk out of our busy schedule. Best not to waste any time.” The glass doors slide open for the two. A gush of cool air hits Changkyun, which he pointedly ignores. All of his attention is on the new sights and sounds before him. 

The lobby is decorated with the usual furnishings: navy couches, love-seats, and single seaters made of the softest material there is to offer surrounding a low black square coffee table covered in magazines. Potted plants dot the lobby to prevent the room from looking too manufactured. The room itself smells faintly like teakwood. Deep. Leathery. Rich Yes, that’s it. Even the air inside the building has to smell like it’s something the rich would breathe. 

“How do you guys breathe in here?” Changkyun asks, lifting his sleeve up to his nose to blot the stench of what could be perfume being pumped from the vents. 

“What do you mean?” Hyunwoo asks, momentarily breaking his attention from the boy to greet the receptionist at the desk with a friendly smile. The man at the desk waves back. Unlike the other receptionist back at the apartments he hardly pays Changkyun any attention. 

“Do you not smell that?”

“Smell what?”

“Like men’s cologne or something. That perfume-y scent.” Hyunwoo inhales deeply to try and catch a whiff of the scent apparently lingering in the air but shrugs when he detects nothing. 

“Maybe I’m already used to it?” Hyunwoo suggests. Changkyun rolls his eyes. Of course. 

Hyunwoo bustles him into the elevator when the doors finally open after an unnecessarily long wait, revealing no one inside. He pushes the button with the number twenty-two on the panel and within seconds they’re soaring up the floors. The unexpected jolt from the elevator moving upwards causes Changkyun to stumble into the other. Hyunwoo catches and holds him steady with one large hand on his shoulder. He hasn’t been in an elevator in a while. It’s disorienting and makes him feel lightheaded. Hyunwoo keeps a steady hand on him through, and that’s mainly what keeps him from hunkering down and vomiting in the corner. That, and the fact that he doesn’t want to do such a thing on his first visit to the company. Hyunwoo might keep him at home to prevent other embarrassing accidents. 

Deep blue carpets and creamy pearl walls greet the both of them when they finally arrive. The color of the walls is soothing and pretty enough to quell his motion sickness. He delicately steps out of the elevator, quickly noting the way his knees turn to jello from the ride. Changkyun deeply inhales and focuses on the solid floor beneath him before fixing his attention to the rest of the hall. Besides the windows that open the building to the outside world and the occasional potted plant, there’s not really much interior decorating that’s striking. The sparse design of the place is thankfully easy on the eyes.

“Hoseok should be here soon,” the man thoughtfully muses to himself as he checks his watch and gently bustles the other down the hall. “We’re a little early today.” He suddenly stops in front of a door, causing Changkyun to run into him. Hyunwoo apologizes and ruffles the boy’s hair.

“So what exactly will you two be doing to me?” Changkyun asks as he fixes his hair. “And what will I be doing?”

“All we need is for you to sit pretty while he work our magic,” the man answers with a quirk of the lips. “As for what we’ll be doing, you’ll see soon enough.” Hyunwoo opens the door and flicks on the light switch as he strolls in. Changkyun follows just a couple steps behind and stops in his tracks in surprise. Before him is a makeup studio, complete with several workstations. There’s a handful of large, black makeup cases scattered around the room. Two vanity tables are pushed off the left side of the room, each one neatly tidied up. To the right stands a wall of shelves, every single one filled to the brim with various makeup products. Changkyun’s overwhelmed by the rainbow of colors lining the shelves and wonders if he would have to try all of them on. 

“Welcome to the makeup studio, also known as my second workplace.” Hyunwoo does a small bow and with a sweep of his arm guides the other to one of the workstations. 

“So is it just us and Hoseok today?” 

“Just us,” Hyunwoo confirms with a hum as he rearranges the makeup cases around the room to prepare and gestures for the boy to take a seat. Something clicks in Changkyun’s head. 

“Wait, does that mean—“

“Are you surprised that someone like me is dabbling in makeup when he should be in his office playing darts?” Hyunwoo straightens himself up and locks eyes with Changkyun, an aura of seriousness suddenly turning the room a little colder.

“I guess so,” Changkyun mumbles and looks down at his lap, embarrassed that he had all these assumptions about the other just because he was of a higher socioeconomic class and was caught red-handed. “But also you...you as a person don’t seem like the type to know how to use makeup.”

“Because I’m masculine?” The man has his hands on his hips now. He doesn’t look angry from the way his shoulders are relaxed. He seems to be genuinely curious about Changkyun’s reasonings. That’s the thing about Hyunwoo that’s very different about the others, he realizes: Hyunwoo doesn’t have a bad temper. Hyunwoo is surprisingly patient, though he still gets frustrated just like any other person. Hyunwoo doesn’t demand. Hyunwoo is, in short, nice. 

“Well—“

“Makeup isn’t a gender thing. Anybody can learn how to use and apply it. It’s fun. I can teach you some other day if you ever need to use it.” Hyunwoo gives the boy that smile of his that makes him look like he’s winking with the way one eye shuts more than the other. 

The door clicks open and a bright, grinning Hoseok enters the room at that moment. The navy blue pinstripe button up he wears is barely buttoned up halfway, giving Changkyun a glimpse of the man’s pale, broad chest and what looks like a nipple if he turns to the side a little. Changkyun gulps and turns his attention to the nearest object to hide his reddening face. 

“I brought you two coffee,” Hoseok noisily chirps as he holds up a little cup carrier. “Well, actually, I got you hot chocolate, Changkyun-ah. I hope you don’t mind.” Hoseok sheepishly laughs. 

“It’s okay. I don’t mind. Thank you.” He accepts the warm cup from the man with a shy smile. 

“You’re very cute,” Hoseok comments straightforwardly, as though simply making a casual observation about Changkyun. The boy flushes bright red not only from the flirtatious way the other speaks to him, but also from the fact that he can see his nipples. Hoseok has no shame, it seems. 

“See something you like, baby boy?” Hoseok purrs, immediately spotting the way Changkyun’s eyes keep drifting away from eye contact. He takes the boy’s hand and has the brave audacity to lay it on his chest, just where his heart should be. The fact that he’s being forced to feel up the other because he was caught peeping into his shirt is enough to make Changkyun’s face go beet red.

“Hoseok, please refrain from flirting with Changkyun. We have work to do.” Hyunwoo grabs the boy’s wrist and yanks it out of Hoseok’s hold. An annoyed expression crosses Hyunwoo’s normally neutral look. 

“You take work too seriously,” Hoseok protests with a small, childish pout. “Ease up and let me joke around with him, alright? Besides.” Hoseok casts a glance at the subject of the conversation and returns his gaze back to the other man before nodding. Hyunwoo briefly acknowledges the boy’s presence before doing the same as Hoseok did. There’s a silent discussion between the two that they don’t want Changkyun to be a part of, and it’s making him uncomfortable that they know he’s sitting not even a few inches away from them. 

“Well, let’s get to work then. You’re up first, Hyunwoo.” Hoseok claps a hand on the other man’s shoulder and wanders off. Changkyun cranes his neck around to watch Hoseok walk away. He suddenly finds himself being grabbed by the chin and spun back around. Hyunwoo is staring intently at his face. 

“Your face is red,” Hyunwoo observes. Changkyun pushes the other off of him with a flustered babble and covers his face with both hands. His cheeks feel hot to the touch. 

“That man,” Hyunwoo says with a click of his tongue and shake of the head. “He’s shameless when it comes to flirting. Here, hands off your face. We need you to cool down so I can start caking your face with makeup.” The man gently pries Changkyun’s face from his hands and sets them in his lap. He bends down slightly to examine the boy’s face extensively. Changkyun folds his hands together and tries to look everywhere but Hyunwoo’s eyes. The man is admittedly handsome; every angle of his face is both sharp and smooth. His cheeks are high but soft and round, not at all lacking fat. He hardly has any blemishes, unlike Changkyun with his acne scars. Even his mono-lids create the impression that he has no physical flaws. In short, his appearance is that of a Greek god. Built like an Olympian but just as attractive as Adonis himself. Everything about Hyunwoo is perfect. 

Hyunwoo cups his chin again and tilts his head back to examine him in better lighting. Changkyun stares up at the wall for a brief moment before his eyes choose to wander. They eventually meet the man’s eyes, no matter how hard he tries to avoid them. Hyunwoo stares with unwavering tenacity, almost as though he’s challenging the boy to look away. It is him who breaks eye contact, though. 

“A minimal look,” Hyunwoo mutters to himself as he straightens up and opens one of the makeup cases sitting beside Changkyun. “Foundation, some lipstick, a little eyeshadow. Okay.”

“So do you and Hoseok play dress up with all your friends?” Changkyun asks as he watches the man select the products he requires. He sets them aside on an empty tray inside the makeup case. 

“Pretty much. But that’s how we experiment with what works and what doesn’t when it comes to makeup and clothes. And it helps us plan out outfits for upcoming fashion shows.” Hyunwoo’s body fills up Changkyun’s view. He feels the other gently gather up his fringe and flip it over so he can clip it back. 

“How long have you been working like this?”

“With makeup? Probably since college, summer before sophomore year. I was bored and was watching videos on the internet. Saw makeup tutorials and tried them on myself.”

“I walked in on him and he looked like a clown that failed clown school,” Hoseok says as he reappears and leans on the wall in front of Changkyun with a cheeky grin. 

“Dumbass over here exposed me to our friend group.” Hoseok snickers at the name and walks away. “All our female friends were delighted by the fact that I was interested in makeup, so they took me under their wing. They taught me all they knew, from basic techniques to neat tricks they’ve learned.” Something furry softly brushes against his cheek, bringing the sensation of wetness that quickly evaporates.

“How did your parents feel about you doing makeup?”

“They thought it was funny that their son was messing around with it, but it made sense to them since the whole company is centered around makeup. Close your eyes.” Changkyun shuts his eyes on command, allowing the man to swipe the cotton pads across his eyelids. 

“That’s cool.” He opens his eyes again and watches Hyunwoo dispose of the pads. The man returns to the makeup case and rummages through it for a moment before coming up with several bottles of foundation in his hands. He sets them down on the tray and begins the somewhat arduous effort of searching for foundation similar in color to Changkyun’s skin. He makes the boy apply some lip balm in the meantime. Silence falls between them. Changkyun fidgets in his seat with the stick of lip balm in his hands. 

“I know you have more questions for me, Changkyun.” Hyunwoo turns around with the back of his hand covered in small droplets of various foundation. He tilts the boy’s head back with a tap on the chin and starts dabbing the samples on Changkyun’s face to determine which foundation matches the best.

“Um, well, are you excited to finally have the company?”

“I suppose,” the man replies with a small exhale that grazes Changkyun’s forehead. “It’s been really stressful trying to prove to my parents that I’m more than capable of inheriting the company but sometimes I feel like it’s not enough to please them. Or myself, either.” 

“What do you mean?”

Hyunwoo cleans his hand with a wet tissue and wipes Changkyun’s cheek clean like a slate. “It’s a company, Changkyun. I got a huge burden sitting on my shoulders right now. If it fails it’s on me.” 

“Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re not familiar with our culture.” Changkyun has a feeling the “our” means rich people. 

After about five minutes of finding the right foundation Hyunwoo finally begins with the base. He dabs several spots on Changkyun’s face with the liquid foundation and with a brush buffs it out. The soft bristles of the brush tickles his face, and he manages to sit still long enough for the man to cover most of his face up until he gets to his nose. With a giggle, Changkyun pulls away from the man’s reach and scratches the afflicted area. 

“Don’t touch your face,” Hyunwoo scolds, but he’s not mad judging by the way he’s chuckling along. He grabs the other by the chin again and holds him still so he can redo his nose. Changkyun bites down on his lip the entire time to prevent himself from laughing. 

“Alright, one more time but with concealer. Don’t rub your nose again.” Hyunwoo sets the bottle of foundation down on the tray and picks up the concealer. He repeats the process of applying the concealer just as he did with the foundation. As the brush flutters across Changkyun’s nose again he can’t help but giggle at the ticklish sensation. 

“Done,” Hyunwoo proclaims as he touches up the concealer on the boy’s cheeks. He waves the bristles of the brush underneath Changkyun’s nose in a playful manner, causing the boy to yell and jerk back. He’s about to rub his nose again when Hyunwoo catches him. 

“Jesus. Don’t just tickle me,” Changkyun whines. 

“No more,” the other promises with a wide smile as he retrieves an eyeshadow palette. 

“Whatever happened to your ever so serious work ethic, hm?” Hoseok asks his friend, seemingly out of nowhere. He appears out of what looked like thin air and stands behind Changkyun.

“I never said you can’t have fun while you work,” Hyunwoo retaliates. He opens the palette and examines the autumn colors in front of him, lips pursed slightly as he thinks. 

“Humph,” Hoseok huffs. He lingers just a moment longer. When Hyunwoo moves out of the boy’s way to fetch a brush, he and Hoseok make the briefest eye contact in the mirror. With a sparkle in his eyes the man disappears from view, an almost knowing smirk on his lips.

“What a nuisance,” Hyunwoo grumbles when he turns back. He balances the palette in one hand, and with the brush held delicately in the other he almost looks like a painter. Changkyun shuts his eyes without the man telling him to do so. 

“Is he always like that?”

“Only when he’s here. He knows when to fool around and when to work,” the man admits to him. “Today though, it seems like he’s taken liking to you. I should finish up quickly so he can finally have you to himself.” The ticklish sensation is back, but this time on his eyelids. However, the boy has no urge to scratch.

“You jealous?” Changkyun jabs with a grin. 

“No. Just glad that you’re finally making friends and opening up to others.” There’s truth to the statement, and as much as Changkyun would like to leave his recent emotional breakdowns in the past he can’t help but recall them again. The only reason he even managed to get out of that was because Hyunwoo was there for him, and he chose to tell the other what was on his mind. In a way, Hyunwoo is part of the reason he’s sitting in a chair with his face caked in makeup. 

“I’m assuming that I’m the first...master you’ve befriended, although I wouldn’t exactly go out and call myself that,” Hyunwoo tells the boy, voice suddenly dropping to a near whisper. 

“What would you call yourself, then?” The brush lifts from his face and a distant click is heard. Changkyun opens his eyes and watches the man place the palette back in the tray. Hyunwoo returns with lipstick. He pops the cap open and twists the bottom. The cherry-red tip of the stick peeks out. Hyunwoo smudges the lipstick on his forefinger and suddenly leans in, much too closer for Changkyun’s liking. He doesn’t pull away though, since the last thing he wants is to be scolded and pulled back into the proper position. 

“Open your mouth and make an O.” Changkyun does as he’s told. Hyunwoo dabs lipstick onto his lips without another word. The man’s fingers are soft on his own lips, and if he wanted to he could catch Hyunwoo’s hand and try to suck on his digits like he would—

He’s strangely meticulous about this particular portion, attempting to get into every corner and crevice he can. He’s also too close. 

Hyunwoo finally finishes his lips, but before he can step away he tells the boy, “I think guardian would best suit me.” To be honest, Changkyun forgot what they were talking about earlier. His mind is too caught up on how close Hyunwoo was to him and he can’t stop thinking about it.

“Last step is setting powder,” Hyunwoo declares in a normal voice. “This should only take half a minute to apply. After this I’ll release you.” 

“Finally,” the boy says with an exaggerated sigh. “My ass is sore from sitting.” 

“You’ve been sitting there for at least fifteen to twenty minutes. Be thankful I didn’t go with any complicated looks.” Hyunwoo twists a black container open and with a thick brush applies the last layer. He’s quick about it, but not quick enough for Changkyun to realize he keeps staring at Hyunwoo’s lips. So that’s where his eyes have been focused on this entire time. 

“Done,” Hyunwoo loudly declares once he has finished the finishing touches. “Off you go!” The man shoos him off the seat with a flick of his hand. Changkyun hops off the chair while he undoes the hair clips in his hair and manages to walk forward a few feet before Hoseok grabs him by the arm and drags him off to another part of the room he wasn’t aware of. There is another room hidden behind the wall of workstations and mirrors. 

“I’m going to my office to check something,” Hyunwoo calls from the other side of the wall. “Text me when you’re done!” Heavy footsteps fade into the distance, followed by the shutting of a door. 

“What a look,” Hoseok murmurs contemplatively as he examines the boy’s face. “Let’s see if it’ll match the clothes I brought for you to try.” Hoseok disappears behind a folding panel. He reappears with handfuls of clothes hangers, each one holding a full outfit. The man hangs them on a nearby hook attached to the wall and gives the boy the first outfit: a short-sleeved, loose-fitting, low turtleneck shirt, suit jacket, and Bermuda shorts, all in black. It’s not repulsive; Changkyun had thought he was going to try on something strange, like a shirt with another shirt sewed to the front. This is tame and something he would probably wear. 

“You can get changed behind that panel, unless you don’t mind stripping in front of me.” Hoseok’s flirtatious smirk is back, but it suddenly melts into a soft smile. “I’m kidding. I’m guessing you’ll want the privacy.”

“It’d be nice,” Changkyun agrees as he walks around the panel. He puts the clothes hanger on the panel and starts the process of carefully stripping with a face covered in makeup. There’s a somewhat awkward silence between him and Hoseok, and if there was no physical barrier separating the both of them it might have been more awkward.

“So you and Hyunwoo,” the man starts, voice trailing off when he doesn’t know what else to add. He clears his throat and apologizes for the intrusive way he started off. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be asking about your personal life with him. We hardly know each other.”

“It’s okay,” Changkyun murmurs. He goes to bite his lip, but remembering the lipstick that was applied earlier he stops himself. 

“How about I introduce myself, then?” Hoseok suggests. “That way you’ll get to know more about me.” Changkyun considers the proposal as he fingers the button on his jeans open. If he accepts, would he be setting himself up? Would Hoseok want information about Changkyun in exchange? Surely there has to be a motive; no one gives out information about themselves without a price. To his surprise, Hoseok doesn’t wait for an answer and begins. 

“As you know, my name is Shin Hoseok. I’m twenty-six years old. Hyunwoo and I have been friends since high school, so we go back a long way. We’ve been through a lot.” There’s a strangely sad tone to Hoseok’s voice, but he quickly masks it behind a chuckle. “Anyways, I’m still a relatively new businessman. I started my clothing brand just a couple years ago, so I’m still trying to balance being an entrepreneur alongside being a designer. Hyunwoo has been an amazing friend by helping me out whenever he can and just being there for me.” He suddenly stops and silence follows. Changkyun freezes mid-action, afraid that if he moved it would create sound.

“Hyunwoo’s told me about you,” Hoseok continues in a quiet voice, acting as though he hadn’t paused his conversation. Changkyun cautiously wiggles his way into the shirt, stopping just a moment after he’s fixed the wrinkles to listen to the other. “He’s told me how you guys met. About the auction and stuff.” A pause; Changkyun pulls the shorts on, unsure about his feelings for this conversation. He’s not mad, nor is he worried. Oddly, he feels neutral about the topic, perhaps because that night was so long ago and it doesn’t matter now. “Hyunwoo always has a reason for doing stuff, no matter if it’s right or wrong. He’s a simple and logical man. His reason for going to the auction was because he wanted to see what the fuss was about, since there’s been talk about the whole thing from acquaintances and business partners. His reason for purchasing you—well, that’s beyond my knowledge. He claims it was an impulsive decision, done because he felt the instinct to protect you. In a way, I guess that’s true. The guy’s always been the father figure in our circle of friends. He likes to take care of people. That’s just part of his personality. But I just feel like there’s something more. I feel like he had an actual reason, and didn’t just make a brash decision on the spot. I don’t know. Maybe this is a sign that I’m doubting my best friend for once.” Hoseok laughs, bright and bubbly despite the somewhat ominous conjecture he has about his friend. 

“Should I not trust him, then?” Changkyun asks, walking out from behind the panel as he pulls on the jacket. The man examines his outfit thoughtfully. 

“No, that’s not the point I’m making. Hyunwoo is as straightforward, simple, kind and caring as he’s shown you. Whatever you’ve experienced with prior masters won’t be the same as him.” Hoseok makes several adjustments to the jacket and smooths out the collar of the shirt. “I’m not surprised he’s gained your trust so easily despite his outside appearance. He always goes out of his way to make people feel safe and cared about.” 

“Then what do you mean when you tell me that you think there’s something more going on?”

“It means there’s something more that’s hidden underneath. A hidden motive. A hidden reason. But I don’t know what.” Hoseok parts the boy’s fringe in two and fixes up any stray strands of hair that refuse to move. “There we go. Take a look in the mirror and see if you like it.” The man sweeps his arm out and points to a full body mirror hanging on the other wall. Changkyun takes one look at himself before turning toward the other in confusion and points at his reflection. 

“That’s me?” He asks. Hoseok bursts out laughing. 

“Yes, that’s you. Christ, he was right when he said that you act like a kid sometimes. It’s cute. No wonder he’s fond of you.”

“He likes me?”

“Is that a surprise?”

“No, I mean like me. As more than just—just a thing. Like my personality and stuff, you know? As myself.”

Hoseok crosses his arms and raises a brow, intrigued albeit a little confused by the question. “Yes? He told me that you were interesting and fun to be around.”

“Did he really?”

“Of course. He couldn’t lie, even if his life depended on it.” 

Something the color of bright yellow sunflower and golden sunshine fills the boy up with warmth and happiness so overwhelming that he can only stare at his reflection again. So this is what it’s like to finally have someone genuinely like you not for your looks, nor your ability. Hyunwoo likes him—and all this time he had thought, far, far back in the deepest crevice of his mind, that the man was only forcing himself to like Changkyun. Despite his good intentions the boy had doubted him, believing that he was only befriending Changkyun for the sake of living with a more lively person. 

Hoseok breathes a small, breathy laugh. “He was also right about the fact that you always get this look in your eyes when you’re thinking about something.”

“Does he tell you everything that’s happened to him? And about me?”

“Yes, and so far yes. Unless he has reason to hide things from me, but he always comes seeking advice. When he tells me things about you, it’s always for advice. But sometimes he tells me little facts about you.” The man winks. Before the boy can protest, Hoseok hands him a second outfit. 

“He told me that you don’t want to go to the gala,” he continues without pausing to let the new information sink in. Changkyun stands still behind the panel with a grimace. He’s associated too many unpleasant thoughts and memories with parties. 

“There’s a reason I don’t want to go,” he tells the man flatly. “I think you should know why.”

“I do,” Hoseok confirms. “And despite your past, I still recommend you go. I think it would mean a lot to Hyunwoo if you went.”

“Why? So he can show me off to other people?” There’s a bitter bite to Changkyun’s words that he didn’t mean to show, but it’s there and it’s clear that he despises parties for that sole reason. 

“Quite the contrary,” the other replies almost soothingly. “This year he’s the planner. Since it’s a high-end event he has many, many expectations to fill from friends, family, business partners, what have you. I believe it would mean a lot to him if you attended so that you can admire the work he put in, so to speak. That, and the fact that he’s not much of a social person in the first place means he’s going to get bored quickly. He’d appreciate it if someone he’s close with is around for him to kill time with.”

“He has friends,” Changkyun stiffly points out. “He doesn’t need me to entertain him.”

Hoseok sighs from the other side of the panel. “I suppose there’s no way to convince you to go. You’re stubborn. You’re lucky that Hyunwoo has the patience to watch paint dry on a wall.”

“Did he tell you to try and convince me to go to the gala?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Hoseok says. “Maybe I’m doing it for him without his input.”

Changkyun runs a hand through his hair in frustration. So what if he didn’t go? Hyunwoo is a grown man who can deal with a little party all by himself. He doesn’t need Changkyun to accompany him. The boy promised himself after his last attended party that he would never go to one again. He would remain as far as he physically could from them to protect himself. Protect himself from the wandering hands covered in jewelry, the stench of alcohol on fake lips, the suffocating perfumes that crawled into his lungs, the bodies that pressed up against him when he was too tired to protest. He vowed to himself he wouldn’t go to another party for as long as he lived, even if the consequences were a sharp berating or beating. Or, worse yet, return to the Ringmaster. There’s a reason he despises parties. 

“Hyunwoo is the type of man to give more than he receives,” Hoseok murmurs, his voice soft and gentle as though to coax a wild animal into his hands. “Sometimes he gets hurt because of it. He’s been taken advantage of before. Don’t take his kindness for granted. I know you’ve a long way to fully trust him, considering that your past is convoluted with men who lie and fake everything to everyone they meet. But no matter what, just keep in mind that Hyunwoo always prioritizes others. Trust me when I say that he’s been worried about you.”

*

“How was your first day at work?” 

“Fun,” Changkyun mutters, eyes focusing on the car beside him and the woman inside. Hyunwoo says nothing. He shifts in his seat, fiddles with the stations on the radio and taps his fingers on the steering wheel. There’s a suffocating silence between them even though the world around them continues to play. 

“Something on your mind?” Hyunwoo finally asks, lips pursed as he looks at the boy. Changkyun shrugs and picks at his fingernails. The traffic light finally turns green and Hyunwoo speeds ahead, presumably to get home as soon and possible and escape the tension between them. They’re two blocks away from home when Changkyun finally has the physical capacity to open his mouth and speak. 

“What was your last relationship like?” Changkyun asks. Hyunwoo’s knuckles grow white as he grips the wheel a little tighter. 

“I mean, it was nice. I was head over heels for him up until I figured out he was just using me to make someone else jealous. But he realized what he did was wrong and we’ve made up. It was a mutual break up.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“Yeah. He’s a close friend within our group. I’m over what happened, though. It’s old drama from at least six or seven years ago. We were all college kids who did stupid things.”

“But he messed with your feelings.”

The corner of Hyunwoo’s mouth jerks up in what looks like a forced smile. “We messed around a lot. It was my fault for catching feelings for him. It was casual sex and I should’ve known that we couldn’t be together like that. I don’t even think we actually dated, but I was delusional and that’s what I thought we were. Dating.”

When Hyunwoo gets out of the car, his straightened shoulders seem to droop a little. Despite the years that have passed after that incident, he still seems saddened by it and the man who broke his heart. For the first time, Hyunwoo exposes a state of vulnerability, something that Changkyun felt that the man was not capable of. But it reminds him that Hyunwoo is human too, and no matter how god-like he seems at times his heart beats at the same frequency as Changkyun’s. 

He doesn’t know what to say without sounding awkward, so Changkyun holds onto the man’s bicep and leans against him. Hyunwoo says nothing, but acknowledges the boy’s effort to comfort him with a pat on the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a little disappointed in myself for not working as much as I believed I would have worked over the summer. This is the first chapter I've finished and it's nearing the end of summer vacation...but as it so happened, I happened to catch writer's block and was extremely unmotivated to write. With college about to start, I know I'll be very busy, as well as my beta. The wait for each chapter may take a little longer than usual but I really appreciate every single reader who still sticks around despite the long periods of waiting!! As a full-time student and part-time writer, that makes me very happy. So thank you! ^^


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